A Different Path
by kangaroo2010
Summary: In a radically different show than what we know, the Gaang are all several years older, and Zuko didn't betray them beneath Ba Sing Se. Be ready for a bit of a more realistic take on The Last Airbender, intended for all of us fans who made the mistake of getting old. There will be drinking, smoking, adult language, and adult situations. No graphic sex, though. Sorry!
1. Chapter 1

1. THE GRASS IS SOFT AND COOL. I can feel it on my skin, through my clothes. The wind whispers and rattles through the grass, and the trees creak and moan. There's a slight chill in the air, but I ignore it. Goosebumps ripple my bare arms, but I ignore that, too. I ignore everything and nothing. The world is alive around me, alive and thrumming, but in the middle is me. I feel like the white space in the corner of an otherwise full canvas. I'm very tired, but I can't sleep. My body rebels, but I ignore it. It doesn't know what's good for it. I don't, either, of course, but at least I know enough to avoid my dreams.

_The fire whip cracks into the air. My body hums with anticipation. This is the __**moment**__. There is no turning back. I pull the whip back, let the moment seep into my bones. Will I be the same man tomorrow? If not, who will I be? Better? Worse? Indifferent? I have no answers. Never have. Will I ever? Time to find out._

_ Azula's voice, hard and brittle. Her voice has always been like that, like her eyes, even when she was a little girl. There's something new there, though, something different, something…_

_ Unnatural…_

_ "Zu-Zu," she says, "I don't mean to intrude on the moment, but that whip's not hot enough to kill."_

_ In the memory, I sigh. "I know."_

_ I strike._

My eyes snap open. I sit up in the early morning darkness, run my hands through my hair and down my face. _Dammit_. I clench my fists, feel the grass and the dirt crunch between my fingers. _Gods-dammit._ I lift my hands, spread them open, watch the grass and the dirt drift off with the wind. _**Fuck.**_ I beat my hands against my pants, shaking off the grime. My clothes are dirty, torn, well on their way towards being rags. Doesn't matter what else I do to them, I suppose.

I turn, look back down on the _camp_, such that it is. I'm on a low ridge, looking down. The camp (again, for lack of a better word) is in a shallow bowl, guarded from view. Trees dot the lip, and the view is clear as far as the eye can see. I drove them hard to get here; I hope it pays off, that it was worth exhausting everyone. If we're found before tomorrow, we're fucked; there's no way Appa can move much before then. He sleeps in the bowl, soundly. Does he dream? I hope not. Seems unfair, to curse a helpless beast with dreams.

Of course, when have the spirits ever been fair? Assuming that they're even there…

Everyone's sleeping, scattered around the saddle. There's Sokka; I can hear his snores from here, when the wind passes over the air bison's back. There's little Toph, curled into a ball, and Katara, identified by the huge pillow of dark hair spread around here. In the middle, a form laws, small, unmoving. From here, I can't even tell if he's alive. He better be; otherwise, it was all for nothing.

_All for nothing…_

I mean, I committed treason for the sake of the fucking Avatar. If Aang dies, then what was the point?

I'm tempted to laugh. It's hard not to. A dry, cold, grating chuckle builds in my throat, makes my lips tremble and tickle. I shake my head, willing it away. With this laugh, this particular one building hard and cold down in my chest when my heart should be, there will be tears, and I can't afford those yet. Someday, yes, they will come. I will let them. I will curl up in a corner and cry until I can't cry anymore.

_But not yet_.

I turn away, back to the horizon. We're adrift in a sea of rolling hills and green grass sighing in the wind. Trees bend and sway and groan. To my left, at the corner of my vision, is a small village in a sea of neatly cultivated field. _Have they heard?_ I wonder. Somehow, I doubt it. Whether Ozai or Kuei reings in Ba Sing Se matters little in such places, I suppose. Whether the tax collector wears red or green wouldn't make much of a difference in their lives. _Do they even know about the war?_ I very much want to wander down, ask them. If they don't, I'll suggest to the others that we stay, stay and never leave. Would they go along with it? I'm not sure. A week ago? Of course not. Today?

_Today?_

I push the thought aside, down deep amongst my tears. There it can stay; I don't need it right now.

My fingers twitch. I settle back down to the ground, sit, dig in my pocket, pull out a crumpled back of cigarettes. I shake it, count. _Seven_. I sigh, shake one out, grasp it with my lips, put the pack away. _Seven_. I flick out a finger, bend a tiny flame to life. _Fucking __**seven**_. I draw the smoke in deep, harsh Fire Nation tobacco, shot through with spice and fire. My fingertips tingle, my head swims; it's been far too long. I hold the smoke in, blow it out, feel the soft burn in my mouth, throat, nostrils. I feel warmer now, more relaxed, but no closer to being ready to sleep.

I laugh. _Six now_. I clear my mind, smoke in silence, slow, careful, deliberate. It almost works.

My name is Zuko. I was once the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, heir to the throne of Fire Lord Ozai. For six months, I chased the Avatar. For six more months, I chased myself.

Today, I am twenty-two-years-old. Now, I chase an answer. We'll see how that works out.

I'm not hopeful.

Author's Note Time!

So, yeah, this is my first story here. I've had this account for ages, and only now am I doing more than perusing other people's stories. Now, finally, I'll feel comfortable with doing reviews and shit. I mean, I always felt a little off, commenting on the work of others when I wasn't willing to get over myself and post something up.

That said, you guys, please comment, no matter what.

So, a few notes. I'll try to keep these short in the future (or even nonexistent; my hope is that, over time, my AU will speak for itself, but right now, I'm betting that some explanation is in order), but for today? It's going to be a long one.

So, one of the biggest problems I always had with the show was that the characters were too fucking young. I mean, they're acting like adults (most of the time), but they're just kids. No matter how mature Katara may be, there's no way she'd be that level-headed at fourteen. So, in order to write _my_ version of the story, everyone had to be age-progressed, to a level that more closely matched how I felt they acted. So, for example, Sokka and Zuko are now 22 (they were 21 when the story started, but more on that). If you think about it, this makes sense for Zuko. What's more believable: That a 14-year-old asserted himself in a war council (or was even _let in_), or that an 18/19-year-old asserted himself in a war council? And if Sokka and Katara's dad really left Sokka behind to guard the village, if he was 14 at the time (as is implied), then he is officially the worst dad ever. Plus, an 18/19-year-old Sokka being pissy over being left behind by the warriors makes more sense than a 14-year-old; even at that age, most of us understand that we shouldn't get involved in wars and shit.

Also, Katara is now 19. Aang and Toph are 15. Again, this, in mind, more closely matches their actual characterizations. In the show, Aang has a tendency to come across as a particularly willful, kind of pervy pre-teen. Make him 14/15, though? And suddenly all of his actions can be chalked up to _full-blown teenager in a little over his head._ A 12-year-old doesn't run away on a whim from a good home. A 14/15-year-old, though? Totally.

Further, this story will, in general, take place over a longer time frame. So, for example, the Gaang has already been on the road for a year (hence all the slashes in the ages). This reconciles a lot for me. One, the actual time it would take to travel. The world they live in is obviously a big place, and a lot of it is an active warzone. Even a moderate natural disaster can fuck up the infrastructure of a highly developed society (people who lived through this past winter in North Texas will catch my drift). The idea that the Gaang could just fly back and forth across an active warzone, while trying to not get shot or caught, as easily as a domestic flight from Dallas to Houston on a clear spring day is just ludicrous, as is the idea that Aang is such a _special little sunflower_ that he can master three complex bending disciplines in less than six months.

_(Also, before you say, "But they can fly!", Appa will NOT be a __get-out-of-plot-points-free__ card in this story. For one, he's a living animal; try riding a horse full-stop every day for a week and see what happens. For another, the Fire Nation has flying airships; you really think no one in this society has bothered to figure out how to shoot shit down?)_

So, yeah, time has been expanded. Things are going to be a bit more complex. The Gaang is going to have to deal with food, clothes, concealment, finding a good camp ground. I'll keep this to a thing in the background mostly, because it bores even me, but this is just a way of explaining why things are taking as long as they do.

Now, there's other shit that will get explained in the story, but first and foremost: _Why is Zuko with them after fleeing Ba Sing Se?_ I'll explain the full story later (_in the story_), but for now, know that this was an occasion of the characters telling me what to do. When I age-progressed them, Zuko came up to me, sat down, lit my cigarette for me, and said, _You know, yeah, a sixteen-year-old me would've betrayed the others in the Crystal Catacombs, but a 22-year-old me? Come on._ And you know what? He had a point. So, Zuko _didn't_ turn back to Azula and the Fire Nation. Because this Zuko is older, more mature, though no less conflicted. For me, this is cool. I basically have a whole new series to explore that I didn't even think about when I started mapping this out. I'm pretty fucking excited.

_(Also, we're no longer going to toss away all of the character development Zuko went through in Book 2, unlike some writers for a particular well-loved – and deservedly so – animated TV show did…)_

So, yeah, I think that covers it. Deep down, I hope you didn't read all this, and that you let the story speak for itself, but I had to get all of this off my chest. In the future, these notes will be much shorter, and, hopefully, much better thought out. Cheers!


	2. Chapter 2

2. THE SUN RISES, SPILLING FIRE AND BLOOD OUT UPON THE LAND. I watch it come up, feel the chill bleed from the air. Behind me, I sense the others stirring, hear snatches of voices drifting up with the wind. I should go talk to them. We barely spoke at all yesterday, during the headlong flight from Ba Sing Se. There was no time, no time for thought or reflection. To think would be to doubt, to doubt to dither, _to dither to die_. So I took the pilot's seat with Katara, swung us wide around to north, barreled off. Behind us, screams and cries rose with the smoke as great scarlet rivers flowed through the streets and over the walls. We could sense sporadic fighting, down beneath the smoke, just enough to keep anyone from looking up.

_We hoped._

Even if it worked, that gamble, we could not stay here. We needed to meet, sit down, _talk_. Figure out where to go, what to do. We needed a fucking _plan_.

My legs would not move. The sunrise was too beautiful. Who knew when there would be another moment of peace? Potentially never. They could catch us today, this afternoon, _in the next hour_, and then?

Then I'd have plenty of time to sleep.

"Zuko?"

The voice, soft and feminine, slices through my thoughts. I let it; my brain wasn't going anywhere productive, anyways. I turn my head towards the voice, take her in, the dark skin, the clothes as town and tattered as mine, eyes red with worry and exhaustion. She has her arms around her, hugging herself tight. "Hey, Katara," I reply, voice low and flat. I sound as tired as she looks. I wonder how _I_ look.

"Want some company?" The look in her face says that she's asking as much for herself as for me.

I shrug, turn away. "Sure, come on up."

I listen to her bare feet pad through the grass, feel her settle down beside me. We don't say anything at first, just watch the sun come up.

"It's very nice," she says. I turn towards her. She's curled up, her knees under her chin, arms tight around her shins.

I turn back to the sun. "You know what? It really is." The mental image of her lingers in my eyes. I bite down a laugh.

"What?" she asks, a smile in her voice.

I toss her a sly look out of the corner of my eye. "Just wondering if I look as beat to shit as you do."

The smile, faint and fragile, moves from her voice to her face. "You really want to know?"

"That bad, huh?" I can really only imagine.

She brushes some hair from her face, turns back to the sun. "Oh, yeah. The scar really brings it together, makes you look like some crazy pirate."

I arch an eyebrow. "Well, you'd know."

She rolls her eyes, socks me lightly in the arm. I make a production of rubbing the spot, moaning and groaning, and, for a moment, quick and light, we laugh, and are happy.

It's gone fast, though.

"You know," I say, "I don't think I've ever actually _looked _at a sunset."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I reach back into my pocket, pull out my cigarettes, heaving a heavy mental sigh. _Six_. "I guess I never really had the time, or the inclination to make the time." I shake a smoke out, put it in my mouth. _Five_. "Staring off into space wasn't really encouraged in the home I grew up in." I start putting the pack back in my pocket.

"I can imagine." _Pause_. "Can I have one?"

I freeze, stare at her, cigarette bobbing in the breeze. "You? Really?" I move my lips, tilt the unlit stick up and down in my mouth. "You ever smoked before?"

She shrugs. "Well…it's not exactly unknown in the Water Tribes, tobacco. Lots of Earth Kingdom stuff floating around, you know? Women aren't supposed to partake; it's really a manly thing." She smiles to herself. "But we find a way, if we want to." She snorts at a memory, sighs. "When we left the North, after the Siege, we had a box full. Sokka and I used to take turns sneaking off to smoke, because Aang would get all in a tizzy about it, which really just made it all the better, in the end. Still, we ran out once Toph joined us. That girl…" She shakes her head, clucking her tongue. "Anyways, that doesn't answer the question. Can I have one?"

I shrug, shake another one out, hand it over. _Four. Blergh._ I was going to have to find a way to get more; the thought of trying to quit at a time like this made me fear for my sanity. I put the pack away, and we lean towards each other. I catch her attention, do a showy demonstration with my hands, like a cheap magician. I wave my hand back-and-forth, hold it forward, and _snap_, a flam pops from my thumb. I light her cigarette while she giggles with delight, then light my own.

She takes a long, deep drag, coughs a few times, before speaking again. "_Wow_," she whispers, "they weren't kidding."

"Who wasn't?" I ask, smoke curling from my mouth and nostrils.

She coughed again, softer this time. She was getting the hang of it. "_The Freedom Fighters_, this group of kids we met last spring, in the early days. They hated the Fire Nation, but seemed to _love_ your tobacco. Said it was really harsh and kind of…well…_spicy_." She took a puff, let it out with only a faint cough this time. "Well, they may have been wrong about a lot, but they weren't wrong about _that_."

I look off into the horizon. The sun is almost fully risen now. "Sounds like a story."

She nods. "It is." We puff in silence, then she says, "How're you doing, Zuko?"

I give her a look. "Should I be asking you that?"

She sighs hard, shrugs. "Probably, but I like being first. As to how I am…well…Aang's still breathing, and his heart's still breathing, which means that the world hasn't _quite_ ended yet, so, you know, all things considered, I'm…well…_doing_." Puff, exhale. "Now, what about _you?_"

I close my eyes, breathe deep, let it out. "Well, if you must now, after over three years as an exile and a failure, as of yesterday, I've become and out-and-out traitor to my people, my country, my family. I attacked my sister, lost my uncle – who might or might not be dead – and now I'm stuck with an Avatar who's in a fucking _coma_." I opened my eyes, looked deep into the horizon. "And now, I'm sitting a hundred miles north of a massive Fire Nation army led by my crazy sister, trying to avoid thinking about the fact that it's more than likely that I'll have to overthrow and kill my father before this is all over." I turn back to her, feel a strange, unnatural smile form on my face. "But, on the other hand, I'm having a smoke with a pretty girl while watching the sun rise over a beautiful view. So, you know, win some, lose some."

I don't know where the laughter came from, only that it came, and that it left us gasping for breath. We laughed until we were on the verge of tears, then we took a few great big wracking breaths and laughed some more.

I was wiping my eyes as I calmed down, and she was doing the same. I took a final puff from my cigarette, stubbed it into the grass, tossed it down the hill, looked to her. She smiled at me, winked, bent some water up to smother the butt in her hand, then tossed it away with a graceful flick of her fingers.

"Show off," I muttered.

She rolled her eyes. "You're on to talk, Mr. _Snap-Pop-Fire._" She looked away, towards the sun. "You know? That felt good."

"Yeah," I say, "it really did. Like, for a moment there, the world wasn't coming to fucking pieces around our ears."

She settled her chin firmly onto her knees, blew some hair from her face. It's not an easy job; her hair is dirty, grimy, laden with sweat and dust. "That's a good way to put it." She paused, rolled her head to tile towards me. "How many more you got?"

"Manic-depressive episodes? Tons, I imagine. It's my specialty."

Another eye roll. She's very good at those. "You and me, both, but I was talking about the cigarettes."

I think back. "Four."

He face falls. "_Damn_."

"However," I throw in, " if we're lucky, I should be able to get more fairly soon."

She brightens. "Well, then, I say we do this more often."

"Laugh at inappropriate moments?"

She hits me again, harder this time. My arm wasn't all an act.

"When did you get so clever?"

I ponder that. It's a good question. "I guess the end of the world brings out the snark in me."

"Fair enough. But no, I mean, sit, smoke, _talk_." Her voice falls. "If what you said in the caves was true, then you _need_ someone to talk to, for once in your life."

I look at her, long and hard. "Every word I said was true."

She returns the look. "I believe that now."

I feel a smile creep back into my face. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You need someone to talk to, as much as I do."

She looks away. "You know what? Maybe I do."

I take the pack out of my pocket, shake out two more, hand one to her. She gives me a look, as if to say, _But…_, and I respond with a deep shrug, as if to say, _Why not?_ Neither of us has anything to add, so we just sat and smoked and talked, mostly about nothing in particular, before heading back to camp.

And so it continues, the endless march! Woo!

Not too much to add here, just that we're still in that big black hole between the end of Book 2 and the beginning of Book 3. We're actually going to stay there for a while; I was always curious about what happened in there, and you know what? Now I get to decide. For the curious, the story opens on the second morning after the fall of Ba Sing See. The Gaang fled all through the night of the Fall and all through the next day. Thus, we find them here, exhausted, worn out, filthy, dirty, clothes falling apart, and with a comatose _Savior of the World_ laying in their midst.

For the curious, the Gaang is going to accept Zuko pretty quick. He did just commit treason for them, after all. Plus, there's other reasons that I'll get into in the next few chapters.

A final note: Just continuing my thoughts on the character ages from Canon. Nothing major, but was anyone else ever creeped out by how the very last scene of the series is pretty much a 14-year-old macking on a 12-year-old in a decidedly adult and borderline sexual way? Or was that just me? Even ignoring my reservations about the Canon pairings (which are neither here nor there), but seriously, what the hell? I'd appreciate someone else's thoughts here.

Anyways, that's all for that. Like I said, this shit will generally be pretty short. Woo!


	3. Chapter 3

3. WE SIT IN A CIRCLE, BACKS TO THE LIP OF THE SADDLE, LOOKING IN, LIKE FOUR POINTS OF A COMPASS. At the top, by Appa's head, is Katara, then me, Toph, and Sokka. We sit in a deep, heavy silence, contemplating the slumbering form in our midst.

I find my eyes drifting over the other members of my brand-new little army. Sokka is about my age, but a few months older, from what I've heard. He's a little taller than me, and thin, all lean, hard muscle. His warrior's ponytail has come completely undone, leaving his hair a crazy mess, and stubble bristles from his jaw. His stomach growls like a kimodo-rhino, and he holds the offending organ gently. He looks a heady combination of too exhausted to be grouchy and too grouchy to be exhausted. Looking at him, I find my hand drifting to my jaw, feeling the rough bristle, and then, on its own, my hand floats to the left side of my face.

_That scar…_

I was suddenly very glad about not having a mirror. I pull my hand down, away from the scar. It aches, dull, just enough to remind me that it's there. It always does at times like this.

The next person I look at is Toph, fifteen, with hair flying every which way and blank, blind eyes that somehow sparkle with life. She is short and petite and, somehow, manages to look both composed and surly. Only the pale, unhealthy color of her skin and the way she curls into herself reveal that she's just as tired as the rest of us are.

Really, the only one who might _possibly_ be rested is the lump in the middle. I resist a strung urge to kick him. I wonder how many of the others are swallowing the same compulsion.

Yes, there he is, right there before me. The teenage _Savior of the World_, thin as a rail and deep in a coma.

Aang, the Last Airbender.

The Avatar.

All of fifteen-fucking-years-old.

A moment, heavy and full, hangs in the air. It's coming, I know it is. I can fucking _sense it_. Hell, I can taste the damn thing. I look at Katara, who smiles at me kindly, and Toph, who just huffs and waits. I don't bother looking at Sokka. As soon as I saw the other two, I know what's going to happen.

Yep, rely on Sokka to point out the obvious.

"Heh…you guys know what's funny?"

Katara shoots him a look full of venom, and says, in a voice dripping with every iota of how much she is _not_ amused, "Sokka, _don't_."

"Well," he replies, face free of malice or guile as he runs his hand through his hair, "it has to be said…"

"No," his sister grinds out, "it _doesn't_."

"What doesn't?" Toph asks, amused. From the look on her face, I have a feeling she's fully aware, but intrigued at what might happen. I soon learn that baiting Sokka into doing something stupid is something of a full-time hobby for her.

"_Nothing_," Katara spits, eyes locked on her brother.

"Well, come on, it's just that-"

"_Sokka._"

"It's just funny, you know, how it's not until he doesn't _need_ to catch us-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake…"

"That Zuko finally catches us!"

While Katara picks up a loose shoe and hurls it at her brother's head (with alarming accuracy), Toph says, "As much as I enjoy tricking Sokka into physical pain, I have to admit, I'm kind of lost."

I swallow my smile (Sokka _has_ a point, after all) and say, "You ever hear about the asshole Fire Nation prince who chased them around for, like, six months?"

She shrugs, nods. "Yeah, I guess, though Katara and Aang always said that he was, well, more _misguided_ than _asshole_."

_Heh…really?_ "Well, that was kind of them. By that as it may, the misguided asshole was…well…me."

Her eyes go wide, a disconcerting effect. "No shit?"

I nod, unsure why. "No shit."

She slumps back against the edge of the saddle, slowly shaking her head. "And the wonders never cease…"

"Tell me about it," I mutter. I turn back to Katara, put on a smile which she, after a final glare at her brother, returns. I'm pretty sure I meant to say something then, but it flies out of my mind. I have no idea why. Maybe the surrealness of the situation had finally overwhelmed my ability to form coherent thoughts? It's not completely _out there_, as explanation go; I really did feel like I was moving through some sort of really strange, particularly fucked up dream.

_Like I'd become untethered from the world…_

"So," Toph says, huffing slightly, "anyone wanna clue me in on what the hell happened back there? Seeing as we've picked up, you know, the infamously misguided asshole of a Fire Prince, and no one seems to mind."

I flinch. I don't mean to, but I do.

_The whip arcs up, cracks, fire and light…_

_ Azula, voice low, confused, __**unnatural**__. "That's not hot enough to kill…"_

_ My voice, far away, like I'm hearing it from down a long tunnel. "I know…"_

_ The whip comes down, streams of fire flickering from its edges…_

"Zuko saved us. He saved us all. That's all that matters right now."

I open my eyes. I'd gone away. _Again_. Katara is looking at me, concern etched into her face like characters in marble.

"Not all of us," I whisper, eyes on Aang, thoughts on someone else.

Katara is trying to smile. Somehow, I know this. _She's twenty-years-old. No one should learn how to smile like that at twenty-years-old._ The thought fills me irrational anger.

"Your uncle will be alright," she says. "I _know_ he will."

My eyes burn. I fight down the tears. _Not yet_, I tell myself. _Not. Fucking. __**Yet.**_

_"I've never been prouder of you…"_

_ And then the rocks fall…_

"Yeah," Sokka says, "that old bat? He's tougher than he looks. He'll find a way. Isn't that right, Toph?"

Toph sighs, blows some hair off of her nose. "Gods-dammit, Sokka…"

Sokka looks down. "Oh, right…sorry…"

The morning is still and cool, the sun fully up above the horizon. Birds flit across the sky, singing. It's marvelously peaceful.

_The rocks fall…_

"For now," I say, focusing as hard as I'm capable of doing, fighting through the mists of exhaustion and regret that envelop my mind, willing myself to ignore the grime and dirt and dust coating my skin, sinking into my pores, "we need to figure out what to do next."

"That seems reasonable," Sokka says, brightening. "I vote for food first."

"You would," Toph mutters.

"That's enough," Katara growls. "We can bicker tomorrow. For today, we need to rest. Appa can't travel until then, and we need to eat something."

"Hey! That's what I said!"

"Hush. Now, in pursuit of that, my darling, idiot of a brother, you need to do what you do best and go kill something. Start now."

Sokka grumbles, but he goes. He shoulders his boomerang and the spear he took off a soldier as we fled from the Catacombs. No one saw what happened, and Sokka didn't volunteer any information, just wiped the blood from the handle and led the way out of the caves. I was too busy carrying Aang and Katara was too busy keeping Aang alive and Toph was outside, protecting Appa.

It didn't matter then, where that spear came from. Who carried it? No one seems inclined to look. Like I said, it didn't matter then, and it doesn't matter now.

"Toph?"

"Hmm?"

"I need you to go to the top of the ridge, act as look-out, so to speak. Do your vibration sensing thingy."

Toph nods, stands, cracks her back. She is remarkably adult-like for a fifteen-year-old, so much so that I sometimes have remind myself that she's actually only fifteen. It's an impression remarkably at odds with her young voice and the way she said, "Got it!", before hopping out of the saddle and down to the ground.

Footsteps in the grass, and then it was just the three of us.

So to speak.

"You're a natural leader," I say, and mean it. I can't help but marvel at how well she handles command. If the Fire Nation's enemies put women like her in charge, instead of the well-bread nobles who led the Earth Kingdom from one defeat to another for a hundred years, the war would've been over a long time ago.

_And I never would've had to come here…_

_ Would I even exist?_

_ Might not be a bad thing…_

She blushes, shrugs lightly. "Well, we all gotta do what we all gotta do. Sokka builds things, kills thing, and eats things, Toph kicks ass and takes names, and I mother…or lead, if you prefer."

I point at Aang, far away wherever people in his state go. "And him?"

Katara sighs. The look on her face is neither wistful nor nostalgic, just…_tired_. "As long as he does, indeed, save the world, I'll call it even. Let's just put it like that."

I nod. "Seems fair." I look around, feel suddenly nervous, restless, _useless_.

_Not a new state for me._

"So," I say, "on that note, what's my job?"

She lets out a big gust of air, smiles. "Well, first, you're going to tell me where we're going next. This place? Brilliant. It really was a genius idea to come here."

I shrug, feel awkward; praise fits me about as well as it seems to fit Katara. "My…uncle…and I, we found it, while we were chasing you. We noted the location, came back when we on the run from the North. It's a good hundred miles from…well…just about anything. Even that village over there is perfect, the kind of place where people don't ask questions if they don't have to, so long as you don't bother them. So, you know, it's a good place to stop, take a breather, figure out what's next."

She nods, listening, taking it in, not rushing. "You know what, Zuko?"

"What?"

"I gotta say, it'll be nice to have an actual _soldier_ along."

I scoff. "_Soldier?!_ Hardly. Just well-bred, with the education that comes with it. Besides, what about Sokka?"

She looks off to where he's trudging over the ridge, hoisting his spear. His voice drifts back to us, a song, hummed soft and low, no real tune to speak of, just a kind of lyrical noise. He rises to the top of the ridge, looks back, waves. Katara waves back, and then he's gone. Finally, she turns back to me.

"The men of my tribe are tough, strong, fierce. But, alas, they're warriors, not soldiers. As I've learned over the past year, there's a difference."

"True," I say. I can't really think of anything else. My brain is mush, my mind tattered and ragged. The hours of frenzied panic and fear and flight are finally catching up to me. My body rebels, attaching million-pound-weights to my eyelids, assigning little gnomes to tug on their with all their strength. The mere absurdity of the image brings home to me just how tired I am. I look at the sun, think. "So, you asked where to next?"

She curls back into the position she had on the ridge, chin on her knees, arms around her shins. "If you don't mind."

I ponder. "Well…about…oh…forty or fifty miles northeast of here, my…_my uncle and I_, we buried some supplies in this big chest. After the Siege of the North, we hit the road, lugged this chest around in a cart, but we figured it'd never do to try and sneak it into Ba Sing Se, so we buried it."

"What did it have?"

"Lots of odds and ends. Clothes, papers, some weapons, anything that could identify us as Fire Nation. Most of it won't be too much use to us, but there's a big sack of money in there which we felt would be the cause of too many questions, and that will prove helpful." I look around the saddle, take in the fact that other than Sokka's spear and Katara's water skin, we pretty have…well…_the clothes on our backs._ Which, considering the state of those clothes, is a pretty sad comment on our quest's (whatever that might be now) continued chance of success. "Plus, there's a stream that runs right the stash, and we can all get a bath."

She nods, processes. 'Will it still be there, this chest?"

I shrug. "Who knows? We hid it well, but that only goes so far in times like these. It's been a good…oh…four, five months or so; who knows what's happened since then? But like I said, it's a secluded spot, so at the very least, we'll be able to pause, rinse, figure out the next step."

"Fantastic," she says, her voice grim, but strong, cool, _confidant_. I can't help but envy that confidence, or at least the appearance of it.

I settle back against the saddle, run my hands through my hair, instantly think better of it. "Anyways, there's my first task, completed and approved. What was my second task?"

She smiles. I really can't get over that smile. Maybe it's just that I didn't expect her to actually…well…_smile at me_. I wouldn't, if I were her. But then again…I'm not. Point? _Agni, I'm tired…_

"Your second task, my dear Zuko, is to get some damn sleep. You're the only one here who's ever really read a map before, and traveled the area with someone who would know it well. Thus, you being, well, _functional_, is of vital importance to us."

My eyes go wide. I suddenly feel warm, disturbed, panicked. _Sleep?!_ That means closing my eyes; I'm not interested. Not one bit. I start to tell her so, but she cuts me off.

"I really don't want to hear it, Zuko. I've been the only adult in this band for far too long, and I don't intend to lose the other one right as he finally joins us just because he won't take a freaking nap. After all," she finishes, laying her cheek on her knee, "that's what I'm going to damn well do."

I arch an eyebrow. "Liar."

She arches an eyebrow right back. "You challenging me?"

I laugh, in spite of myself. _Or maybe because of her._ _Or maybe…just maybe…I've lost my gods-damn mind. __**Or maybe all of the above?**_ It's a distressing series of thoughts. And besides, as long as she's talking to me, I won't have to sleep. "_You_ tell _me._"

She shakes her head. "You're smooth, Zuko, you know that? But not that smooth. Sleep, and I promise not to steal the last two smokes for myself." She lets out a scoff. "Or let Sokka swipe them."

I open my mouth, let it close. I'm old enough to know when I'm beaten. I sigh, mumble a concession, slide down to the ground. In the shade of Appa, the grass is as cool as it was that morning. I strip off my jacket, my shirt – or what remains of either – make a little pillow. I can hear Katara humming up above, a happy little tune that I don't know. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Toph, standing still, feet spread. Somehow, I know her eyes are closed. She's still as stone.

I can't resist anymore. I try, I fail. My eyes slide closed.

_The whip cracks. Soldiers go flying. I step to Aang, pick him up, as I knock my sister back a good fifty feet. She's screaming, shouting. "What the hell are you doing, you little bastard?!" The soldiers hesitate as I snap the whip again and again and again. I'm telling Katara to run, that we have to go, we have to go __**NOW**__! She's confused, but nods, agrees, starts to run. We retreat. The soldiers are regrouping, recovering from the shock. Azula is getting to her feet. We're not going to make it. All for nothing…_

_ All for nothing…_

_**All for fucking nothing…**_

_ My uncle appears, a flurry of fire and heat, moves no firebender, not even Azula, knows. Gone is the doughy, jolly old man. This is him. __**The Dragon of the West**__. Screams and cries, confusion. Dai Li begin to pour down into the caves, a dull green river threaded with the red of reinforcements. I shout for him to __**come on, let's go!**_

_ He turns his head to me, looks over his shoulder. He raises and arm. He smiles. I haven't seen him smile like that since Lu Ten died. _

_ My heart breaks. I start to run towards him. I take a step. I know what he's going to do._

_ "I've never been prouder of you…"_

_ Lightning flashes from his hand…_

_ The rocks fall…_

Sleep comes. The vision ends.

I fall into darkness.

Another short note here, guys. Again, I think this one speaks for itself. Just a couple issues to discuss, in brief.

One, Katara's age. I know I said she was 19 in the story in the first chapter's note, but that was a stupid mistake on my part. I was looking at the story notes I jotted down before I actually started writing. If I'd turned another page or two, I would've seen that I'd changed my mind. So, she was 19 when the story _started_, and she's 20 _now_. So there. Continuity issue fixed.

Two, amazingly, I have reviews! Thanks guys! Man, this shit is going to go to my head. If only I could get feedback like this on my original stories. So! Two questions that got asked (already!), and that I feel should be addressed. One of this them is answered in the story, that being, _Where the fuck is Iroh?_ In essence, Zuko doesn't know, so you guys, reading Zuko's perspective, don't know. I know, but I'm not telling. Wait and see, kids, wait and see. Basically, Iroh's purpose was the same as in Canon, that being, shooting out some lightning to block off the pursuit of the Gaang, only now he gets a little tear jerker moment with Zuko before he does so. Is he alive? Is he dead? Guess you'll have to read on!

The other question: _What are the pairings?_ Well, if I told you that now, you wouldn't read on, wouldn't you? That said, if you read the note for Chapter 2, you'll already know that I don't like the Canon pairings, for a whole host of reasons I won't get into here. So, I feel like telling you that only one Canon Pairing will survive in this story. Otherwise, I'll let you figure it out.

Don't expect much _angst_, though. These are young adults; we don't do angst, at least not in the traditional, teenager-y sense. At least, I don't, and I can't imagine Zuko doing much of it, either.

That's all. Hope you still enjoy! Oh, and don't expect these "multiple updates in one day" to always be the norm! Keep your expectations low, and you'll never be disappointed!


	4. Chapter 4

4. TOWARDS EVENING, SOKKA RETURNS WITH A DEER SLUNG OVER HIS BACK AND A SKIN FULL OF WATER. We all take a drink, while Sokka dresses the deer, chatting calmly with Toph. I'm relieved that when I wake up, Katara is still asleep, in the midst of her so-called _nap_. I let her sleep, start a fire, and cook some of the meat that Sokka hands me. The smell wakes Katara up, and she comes down, offers to help. I tell her I've got it. This seems to please her.

We eat in silence. It's simple food, campaign food, no muss, no fuss, no frills. I apologize for it, but everyone seems to like it, go back for seconds. Appa wakes, begins to graze, by morning, he will have eaten just about every blade of grass in our little nesting bowl.

I sleep in fits and starts that night. I'm still hungry, still thirsty. We all are. None of us rest much. I think the reality of the situation is really starting to press in on us. Before, when we were just hungry, dirty, tired, it was easy to put it all at a remove. The less we get of those three things, the more our brains open to other, less comforting avenues of thought.

Before he dozes off, Sokka voices the concern that he has fleas. We try hard not to think about that too much.

At first light, Katara go back to the top of the ridge, smoke my last two cigarettes. We talk softly, lazily, about ourselves mostly. Nothing serious, anecdotes from our childhoods, things like that. I don't have many happy ones, but they're there, and I share them. She has more, but somehow, we both seem to come out even.

We don't mention our mothers. Now doesn't seem the right time to bring them up again.

As soon as we're done, we board Appa and take off. I help Katara head in the right direction, while Sokka complains that we didn't give _him_ a smoke, and that women shouldn't be smoking anyways. I don't think he really believes this, but we let him have his little tiff. Toph doesn't help when she decides to point out that the _reasons_ that Katara got them should be _obvious_. Both Katara and I shoot the kid venomous glares. We know it's pointless, but it makes us feel better.

We fly low and steady, not pushing the pace, not wanting a repeat of our last day of flight. We hug trees and valleys, avoid any sign of people, looking for game trails and lonely valleys. There is a strange hush to the land, as if the world itself is holding its breath. It's not possible that the news of Ba Sing Se's fall has reached this far, this fast, but it feels like it has. Maybe it's just in our heads, but we can't help but feel some deep, dark, heavy sense of doom in the air.

I find myself sitting on the pilot's bench with Katara, watching the world slide by. The wind is fresh and bracing, and the taste of tobacco lingers on my tongue. I close my eyes, relish the sensation of flight. It's the first time I've had to really enjoy it, and I have to admit, it's _exquisite_.

"Amazing, isn't it?"

I open my eyes, look out across the rolling emerald see before me. I take a deep breath, let it out, nice, slow, measured.

"You know what? It really is."

We don't say anything for a bit after that. Behind us, Sokka naps, while Toph lays beside Aang, listening for his heartbeat. I don't fully understand how her senses work, only that they do, and that, when combined with her earthbending skills, they can do amazing things. I imagine that it'll be explained at some point (assuming, of course, that there _is_ an explanation), but for now, it doesn't matter.

I return my attention to Katara. She's ripped a strip of fabric from her skirt, used it to tie her hair back in a sloppy ponytail. She has a _lot_ of hair, and it's a mess. Gone are the elaborate loops and whorls that had become her trademark. In place of attempting a hairstyle, she seems to have settled for just keeping the majority of it out of her face.

The reins lay lightly in lap. I point. "Don't you need to hold those?"

She shakes her head. "Nah. That's the great thing about Appa: Just point him in the right direction, give him an indication of how you want to get there, and he pretty much takes care of himself. Even now, when we're doing all this low flying, ducking, weaving, once he's got a handle on how you want to go, you can pretty much relax until it's time to land."

I mull that over. "Handy."

She laughs. "Very."

More silence. Wind. Strands of dirty hair brushing my forehead, tickling my scar. I resist the urge to reach up and scratch it. I need a bath. _Bad_. We all do. I dread to find out how we smell.

"Zuko?"

"Hmm?"

She's pensive, drawn tight, mouth thin. She grips the reins, lets them go, rubs her palms on her skirt. She's nervous. I don't know what to make of this. She's never struck me as someone who gets nervous often. _If at all._

"Can I…can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"It's…it's a hard question to ask, and I imagine that it'll be a hard question to answer."

I look away. _They all are, these days._ "Only if I get to ask you one in return." I look back, back to her thin, weak smile.

"Deal."

We look at each other. I search, search for the hate that I'm sure is there, but I don't find it. I've been looking ever since they threw her in the caves with me. Even when she reached up, touched my scar, _offered to heal it_, I was looking for the hate. And yet, no matter where I search or how hard I look, I don't find it. _Why?_ I'd hate, if I was them. Gods, I hate me, and I'm _me_. And yet…they don't seem to hate me…

_None of them ever really has…_

What was it Toph had said, the way they described me? _More misguided than asshole?_ What did that mean?

The moment stretches out like cloth over a knife. Sokka snorts in his sleep, and it breaks. We look away, back to the horizon.

"Was it hard?" Her voice is stronger now, more confidant, but still low, almost a whisper. "Was it hard, to do what you did? Under Ba Sing Se?"

I take the question deep into my heart.

I close my eyes.

_The whip cracks._

_ The rocks fall._

_ Someone screams, the word __**NO**__ echoing up and down the walls and the rocks for what feels like an eternity._

_ We run…_

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to, Zuko…"

I open my eyes, try to smile. I doubt it works. I keep my eyes focused on the horizon. I don't want to answer, don't want to tell the truth. The truth is real, but it's also cold. Or at least that's how I feel it is. What would she think of me?

That matters very much to me. I'm not sure why.

I look down at my hands, open them, close them. A nicotine jolt runs through me, a lightning shock to my mind. I bite it down.

"I wish it had been. I…I really do. I don't know how much sense that makes, but it's true. I mean…that's how it's supposed to be, right? Committing treason, turning your back on your family, raising arms against everything you've ever known? That should be hard, right?" My voice falls. "_Right?_"

She waits a moment, says, "But it wasn't."

"Heh…not really, no." I tilt my head, chuckle, dry and cold. "Well, I mean, there was this moment, when my sister first walked into the room. We'd been called the palace, ostensibly because someone there had heard how good my uncle and mine's tea house was, and wanted to see if the rumors were true. We'd gone out and bought new clothes the day before, as nice as we could afford. We suspected nothing, and I mean, _nothing_. And then…I saw her, and before she even opened her mouth, I knew, I just _knew_, knew it was her. And for that moment? Before she spoke? I just kind of…gave up. I looked to my uncle, saw his shoulder slump, and saw that he felt it, too. There was just this…feeling of defeat, of helplessness. After the Siege of the North, we walked away, tried to start a new life, tried to be something…" I flail for words, snapping my fingers in the air. "Something…_more_. Something different. Something better than we had been. And for a moment, it seemed like it was actually going to _work_. And then, my sister walked in, and the Dai Li surrounded us, and…I mean…just the day before, my uncle had come to me, told me the Avatar was in the city, or at least that was the rumor. You know what I said?"

"What?"

"_That's nice, but it doesn't matter to us anymore. Now, table seven wants some jasmine tea._"

I smile at the memory, up until the moment when my uncle smiles at me, smiles at me like he never really has, and pats my shoulder. My heart breaks in that moment, and I will the memory away.

"But then, just when our new life had seemed ours for the taking…in walks the old, smirking at us. And in the moment, I just wanted to…_give up_. I was _done_." I turn to her, ask, "Does any of this make sense? You know what I mean?"

She laughs, a short, sharp bark. "Gods, Zuko, do I! You know how many times I've wanted to just…just fucking quit _today?_ I lost count an hour in!"

I scoff. I can't help it. "Quit? _You?_"

She sighs. "Come on, Zuko. We're on the run, have no idea what's going on, just escaped your psycho sister by the skin of our teeth, haven't bathed in days, and, oh yeah, the Avatar is on death's fucking door."

"Thanks to the aforementioned psycho sister."

"_Exactly_. Oh, and let's not forget, even when the Avatar _is_ up and about, no matter how much love the little rascal like the little brother I never had, and no matter how good his heart is or how good his intentions are, you'll _still_ have to get past the fact that he's a slightly pervy fifteen-year-old boy."

I pop an eyebrow. "_Slightly pervy?_"

She shakes her head. "Let's not get into that right now. Point is, if I'd never seriously considered just running off screaming into the woods at any point in the past year, _I wouldn't be human._"

"Point."

"Anyways, back to you. There you are, confronted by your psycho sister, and you're about to just knuckle under and give in. Then what?"

"Oh, she opened her big mouth. Kind of anticlimactic, but true nonetheless. It was just that, as soon as she started talking, well…I knew pretty quickly what I had to do."

"Makes sense."

"No shit? You're actually followed all of this?"

She smirked. "Well, I mean, come on, you've listened to that girl ramble. How could one _not_ plot treason?"

I look away. I don't mean to, but…I have to. The image that popped into my brain, unbidden, unwanted…

_A little girl at her books. Smiling at me. Tapping me with her pen every time my attention wandered. "Listen to me, Zuko! You'll like this bit!" I did. Her voice was kind, sweet, even if it was always tinged with the fear we all knew…_

"She wasn't always like that…"

She reaches out, rests a hand on my shoulder. "Hey? Zuko?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

I round on her. "You? Sorry? _For what?_"

She looks down at the reins in her lap. "For everything…"

I place my hand on hers. "Hey?"

She looks up, meets my gaze. "Yeah?"

"You have absolutely _nothing_ to be sorry about." I make a face, sigh. "After all, if we're being real here, _I'm_ the one who should be sorry."

"What on earth for?"

I shrug. Our hands are still resting, together, on my shoulder, mine atop hers. I almost forget they're there. "If I'd just…I dunno…if I'd just gone over to you guys at the start, none of this would've happened."

She turns her hand over, wraps her fingers around mine, squeezes gently. "Did you want to?"

"Who wouldn't?"

Another moment.

_Fabric stretched over a knife…_

We break.

"So," she says, releasing my hand, reaching down to smooth her skirt, "what was _your_ question?"

"Oh, that's easy. Why don't you guys seem to hate me? Especially you."

Her answer is quick, fierce, and shocking in its sincerity. "How on earth could anyone hate you, Zuko?"

My eyes fly wide. Of all the answers I expected, that was the only one I hadn't run through my mind. A thousand scenarios had played out for me before this moment, up to and including the others just up and tossing my over the side, which, to be fair, I wouldn't have the heart to argue with. "How could _you_, of all people, _not?_ I attacked your village! I chased you hither and yon for _half a fucking year!_ I mean, Agni, _a fucking admiral with a fucking army came after you and almost killed the fucking moon spirit just to fucking spite me!_"

She scoffs. No joke, fucking _scoffs._

"First, chased us? _That's_ what you call it? You had us, what, a dozen times, and never really struck? I mean, even when you caught us at Kyoshi Island, you left your men sitting on the bench, trading pot shots with the warriors, and came after us _alone_. What was your game plan, exactly? Hit Aang upside the head and then politely ask the rest of us to let you leave?" She smiles. "You know, Sokka used to joke that we better not ever let you get hurt, or else they'd send out someone who actually _wanted_ to catch us.

"And Zhao? How is he on you? As soon as Aang's existence was widely known, he would've been on us, him or someone like him." She looks at me out of the corner of her eyes, smirks. "Is it true that you beat him in a duel, by the way?"

I grin at the memory. "If by _duel_ you mean, _beat his punk ass_, then yeah, I totally did."

"Heh…I would've liked to have seen that."

I try to close my eyes, picture that bastard's face, right then, at that moment, when he knew he was beaten, when he was at my mercy, when he looked up and knew that I knew he had intended to kill me, had all but been _ordered_ to kill me. I try to see it, but when I close my eyes, all I can see…

All I can see…

_The ship groans. I reach out my hand. He laughs. He curses. The waves take him._

_ He's gone._

_ Blood on my hands…_

I open my eye. _Was that the first moment of treason?_ I consider it, am surprised when a thought quickly follows it. _Or was that merely another in a long line of little treasons?_ I've never thought of it that way before, of my actions, of my three years in exile, or my six months of trying – _or was I?_ – to catch the Avatar.

I shake my head, tossing the thoughts aside. I'm getting really fucking tired of regrets, of ghosts, of bad dreams and bad memories.

Katara presses on.

"Oh, and while we're on the subject of my village, _attacked?_ You never really _attacked_, you know. You just kind of…showed up, like you always had. Remember, it wasn't like we didn't know you. You'd been wandering those seas for three years, hunting pirates, which we greatly appreciated, by the way."

I shrug. "Meh. Seemed more productive than hunting the Avatar, and besides, the crew liked it. Kept them out of the war."

"Heh…or so you thought. But, yeah, you always paid for supplies, never took anything, never hurt anyone you didn't have to…even when you tried to take Aang, that first time, you only did your duty, only acted mean enough to get him to turn himself over. And when he escaped? What did you do? Not what most other Fire Nation captains would've done. Nope, you sailed on, didn't come back, didn't punish us." She reaches back, runs her hands through her ponytail, widens her smile. "Heh…some evil villain _you_ were."

I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted, or maybe I'm just took stunned to decide. _Is this really how they saw me, all that time?_ I'm not sure whether to really believe her. _Maybe she's just trying to make me feel better?_ It's important, but not, I suppose. What I _do_ know, right then, is that I really don't deserve her praise. "You give me too much credit, you know."

She pops an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Well, yeah. I really had no choice but to play nice. When I was…banished…"

_Flash of lightning…_

_ Pain…_

_ Terrible pain…_

_ Someone screams…_

_ It sounds like me…_

"When I was banished, my…_father_…gave me one old ship, straight from the salvage yards, a skeleton crew of misfits and cast-offs, and laid down an impossible mission, one obviously designed to either get me killed or keep me out of the way. I never even bothered to tell it to the crew. So…I had to play nice." I clench my fists. "Having no other choice but to act like a good person doesn't make me a good person."

She looks at me for a long time. "You really want to be hated, don't you?"

I can only shrug. "I guess? Or at least, I used to. It's what I'm used to. My father hated me from the moment he laid eyes on me. What wouldn't everyone else?"

She giggles. "You know, my Gran-Gran always felt sorry for you."

That takes me off guard, though even that implies that I had enough guard left to _have_ after this shocking conversation. "Come again?"

She gives an emphatic nod. "Yup. Said you looked so hurt, so lost, so…_sad_. You'd be sailing away, and you know what she'd say? _That young man needs a hug._"

I stare at her, and then, I laugh. What else could I do? Three years spent trying to fight my way back into favor, three years spent fighting pirates and glaring at little coastal villages, three years trying to show myself as tough enough, strong enough, _hard enough_, to be allowed to go back home, and what did I accomplish?

_An old woman decided that I needed a hug…_

So I laughed. How could I know? Woman had had a point. I laughed so hard I almost cried. Katara stared, confused, then laughed with me.

It was our second real laugh together, and it felt _good_. I'd be lying if I said it didn't.

"Amused, Zuko?"

I wiped my eyes. "Well, it is a bit of a let down, from what I imagined myself."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, you _had_ to have an idea that you were sucking it up at this whole _evil villain thing_. I mean, how am I supposed to hate you after that whole _I'll save you from the pirates_ line?"

I just shake my head, smiling. "Point."

We fly…

Author's Note time, guys! Woo!

So, like I said, you'll get updates, since I'm not going to be done with this story until I'm fucking _done_, but there may be days when I don't post _anything_, and then days like today, where you're going to get a _lot_, seeing as my sub job canceled too late for me to get anything else. So, here we are.

Not too much to explain about this chapter. It pretty much speaks for itself. I do want to comment a little about what the purpose of it was. In the show, it always intrigued me that, when Katara is thrown in with Zuko in the catacombs, she's suspicious, but she's not afraid. Indeed, none of them ever seem particularly _afraid_ of him, and the Gaang (minus Katara) sure do seem to accept him rather quickly after his Canon face-heel-turn during the Day of the Black Sun. This, in essence, is kind of my explanation for that. I think we can all agree that Zuko was pretty shitty at being a villain, and to some extent, I don't think his heart was every truly in it. Age progress the guy, like I have, and it's easy to see that this becomes less theory and more reality. He's capable of mature thought and discerning decisions at this age; his heart was never in it because _his heart never was_.

Also, what is Katara sorry for? The sister cracks, mostly. Zuko can be kind of sensitive to those at times. He's only sorry he had to hurt his sister; if his father had been there, it would've all been much easier and less conflicting for him.

So yeah, I think that covers if for now. Keep reading, and keep reviewing! In the next chapter, we reach the place where Zuko and Iroh buried supplies, and Toph shows off.


	5. Chapter 5

5. WE REACH OUT DESTINATION EARLY IN THE AFTERNOON. We land in a clearing about a mile away, and Sokka and I scout ahead to make sure it's safe. We observe the spot for a good hour before heading back. We walk Appa the rest of the way. The trees are widely spaced and there's plenty of room, but their branches are long and their leaves are broad. The sun can only shine down weakly, and it's cool and quiet amidst the rustling of the leaves.

We walk in silence, afraid to so much as whisper. Sokka brings up the ear, far in the back, spear at the ready. Katara and Toph lead Appa by the reins, and I walk ahead, showing the way. At every tremble and tremor, Toph halts us, and we wait while she presses her ear to the ground and listens. She always takes her time, and we never rush her, barely breathing until she sands and nods an _all clear._

It takes us almost an hour to reach the spot, and when we do, almost cry with relief. Our nerves are shot and our exhaustion is palpable. All I want to do is hurl myself to the ground and stay there; I doubt the others feel any different. I resist the urge, stand and take in the view. I sense rather than see Katara come up beside me. "Anything out of place?" she asks.

I shake my head. "Not that I can see."

It's true. The place is exactly as I remember it. We're standing in a shallow valley, the sides covered in thing grass and trees. A small stream runs down the middle, and it looks achingly clear and cold. Birds flutter overhead, and hardly a living thing so much as _squeaks._

I look at the stream, close my eyes. I see my uncle and I, stripped to our loincloths, smoking, quiet, trying to clear our minds. We're unsure as to whether we should stay in the countryside or try our luck in Ba Sing Se. In the end, we'll flip a coin.

_Flip a coin…_

_ Is that really all life is, a coin flip?_

I really have no idea what to make of that thought.

"So," Katara says, "you remember where the stash is?"

"Yeah. If we're lucky, it's over there." I point to a low knoll topped with a trio of thin trees, off to our right.

"If we're lucky," Sokka mutters as he comes up behind, "there'll be a magically preserved feast in it."

None of us bothers to respond, mostly because the man has a point. I set off for the knoll, Katara close behind. When I reach it, I brush at the moss on the trees, running my fingers up and down the backs. The first tree I try is a dud, but on the second, I find what I'm looking for: The letters _M_ and _Z_, joined by a plus sign, surrounded by a heart, carved lightly into the wood.

I chuckle to myself as I stand, showing it to Katara. She leans in, brushes it with her fingertips, says, "_M plus Z?_"

I shrug. "The _Z _is for me, of course, and the _M_ is for _Mai_, the name of the girl I was arranged to marry, back when I was…oh…fourteen, I believe. I figured no one was likely to get the significance."

She looks up at me, a curious glint in her eyes. "I get that, but, _in a heart?_"

"Meh. I was trying to make it inconspicuous, you know? Like, if someone saw it, they'd just assume it was left by some random kids and move on."

"Heh…_cute_. You liked her, then?"

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling awkward. "I guess? No one ever really…you know…_asked me_. I didn't _dislike_ her, which, in a royal arranged marriage, is pretty much the best you can hope for, at least at first. To be honest, I barely knew her, and besides, it doesn't really matter all that much."

"Why not?"

"Because when I was banished, my father broke the arrangement. Last I heard, she'd been matched up with some other high-born noble boy. I'm sure they're married by now."

"Ahh…makes sense, I suppose. How do you feel about all that?"

I roll that around in my head. It's a good question. Do I feel _anything?_ Like I said, I barely knew the girl, not even enough to know if I feel anything. "I dunno," I say. "I guess I feel…_meh?_ From what I could tell, she wasn't a bad person, just kind of dull and flat, perfect noblewoman, really. I suppose the most I can say is that I hope she's doing well?" I shrug. "Honestly, the last time I even _thought_ about her was when I carved that." I end with a nervous flutter of my hands, shifting my weight from foot-to-foot.

She gives me a very thoughtful look. "You really don't like talking about yourself, do you?"

"Not really, though you're one to talk."

"Point. So, where we digging?"

I gesture at the ground below the tree. "Right here. Go ahead and call the others over; eight hands will be better than four."

She shoots me a smirk. "_Hands?_"

I shoot her a look back. "Well, yeah. When my uncle and I came here, we didn't exactly have a _shovel_, and we were afraid to go try and buy one, so we just spent all day digging the hole with our hands. And, seeing as we don't have a shovel handy _now_, how else are we supposed to…_ah_." Realization hits me right there at the end, and I lay my palm softly on my face, feeling foolish.

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, _ah_."

I snap my fingers. "But wait, from what I can see, they have shovels in the Earth Kingdom. Isn't this a bit delicate for an earthbender?"

"Most, maybe, but fortunately, instead of a generic earthbender, we have Toph." She turns back towards where the others are. "Hey, Toph! Wanna do some bending?"

The voice comes back, vibrating with excitement. "_Do I?!_" The girl almost _glides_ over, she's so desperate to do her thing. I watch, spellbound, as she makes a show of rubbing her hands together and taking a bending stance. For a girl who obviously disdains the finger things in life, she has an impressive flair for the dramatic, grinning madly as she begins. "Now," she says, "most earthbenders can't do simple things like this. It's delicate work, and requires a lot of practice, especially if you care about what you're digging up." She spreads her hands, slowly peeling back a one-inch layer of dirt. "Fortunately, I had a lot of free time in my family's back yard, before the gang came along, so I ended up honing a lot of moves most don't bother with." She scoffs, peels back another one-inch layer. "It didn't hurt that my parents kept trying to bury my bending clothes where they felt I wouldn't find them." She continued her work, revealing the top of the chest after sliding away four more inch-thick layers of dirt. Before, I thought that I'd dance a jig when I saw the chest again, especially since it looks un-tampered with, but that was when I thought I'd have to get it out the same way I put it in. As things stand, I'm too fascinated to register the discovery. I'm just too busy watching as Toph slowly bends the dirt from the sides, until the chest is revealed in all its glory. I'm so impressed, in fact, that I take a moment to applaud. Katara joins me.

Toph flashes a winning smile, doing a remarkably intricate bow that shows that she didn't blow off _all_ of her social training. "Enjoy the show, Sparky?"

I stop clapping, tilt my head. "_Sparky?_"

"Yeah, Sparky! You're in the gang now, so you get a Toph-approved nickname. _You_, sir, are now _Sparky_."

I roll the name around in my mouth, muttering it a few times, getting the hang of it, nod at it. "I like it." I turn to Katara. "What's yours?"

She sighs. "_Sugar Queen._"

"Heh…and Sokka?"

"_Snoozles._"

"Well, that's on the nose. And Aang?"

Toph shoots her hands in the air, which happens to cause the ground under the chest to rise, bringing it level with the lip of the newly excavated hole. "_Twinkletoes!_" she cries, exultant.

We all applaud at that, the final act, even Sokka, away at his perch on Appa's back. Then, we turn to the chest.

It's weathered the past months remarkably well. It's oak banded and braced with good iron. There appear to be no serious cracks or holes, and very little warping. I run my hand along it, close my eyes, feel the memories pulse through the wood.

_I've never been prouder of you…_

_ The rocks fall…_

I jerk away, as if burned. I brush my hands on my clothes (such as they are) to cover my nerves, try to put on a brave face. "Well, who shall have the honors?" I ask the assembled ladies.

Katara raises a finger and an eyebrow, the water stirring in the stream. "Well, I'd like to show off a little, if you don't mind."

I smile, say, "Well, as much as I'd love to see you strut your stuff, it's really unnecessary. Here, let me show you." With that, I reach down and life the lid wide open. "Remember, we buried it nice and deep in the middle of nowhere. Why bother locking it?"

"Because a really cute waterbender might eventually want to show off for you?" Toph offered, followed by a low _ow_ as Katara smacked her on the head. Katara, seemingly satisfied, turned back to me.

"So, what's in it?"

I lean over, nod, slam the lid shut. "Quite a bit, actually. Wanna help me haul it down to…um…our…_camp_, I guess we should call it?" I make a face at the term; even Toph seems unsure if just plopping Appa down by a stream qualifies as _making camp_. Alas, the world will have to serve, at least for the nonce. "You could, like, make an ice ramp or something, if you still wanna show off. That would be pretty cool to see."

Katara crosses her arms, taps a finger on her chin. "I could…or I could make Sokka come over and help you carry it down."

Which was pretty much what happened. The chest was quite heavy and annoyingly bulky, a good four-feet-across and four-feet-wide, and its migration was heralded by much grunting, cursing, and grumbling. Katara used the time to go check on Aang, then slid down to join Toph in laying back against Appa's side and shouting words of encouragement and advice. I'd like to say that, when we finally got to set it down, we accepted this ripping with grace, but alas, we decided to groan instead, capping the show with obscene hand gestures. The girls, for their part, responded with a chorus of catcalls (though how Toph knew what we did, I haven't the faintest idea). After this chorus was done, Sokka and I turned to the chest, flipped it open, and began to methodically empty it. Any grumbling or mockery was quickly silenced.

About twenty minutes later, the chest was almost empty (except for one parcel I held back, because I was determined that Toph and Katara wouldn't be the only ones to have fun today), and all of its treasures were neatly spread on the ground before us. It was quite a haul. My uncle and I had had to abandon much before our journey into Ba Sing Se, and now I found myself silently thanking him for his foresight.

Both of our uniforms were there, carefully folded and tied, as well as our armor. There were our standard issue daggers, as well as our personal swords. There was a big, heavy bag of coins, too much to carry around, and most of it Fire Nation currency anyways. There was a whole assortment of odds-and-ends, belts and boots and buckles and buttons. There were papers, identify books, my old ship's log, more odds and ends…basically, anything my uncle and I felt would hurt is in the _immediate_ future, but might possibly be of use sometime in the _distant_ future.

_Heh…the future…_

_ The rocks fall…_

"I gotta ask," Sokka mutters, hungrily eyeing my uncles sword, "when did you stash all this stuff?"

_Rocks…_

_ Lightning…_

_ Someone screaming __**NO**__…_

"It's a long story," I say, looking away. "Maybe some other time?" I turn back to the group, try to smile. Sokka appears too pre-occupied with the sword to notice anything, Toph looks bored, Aang sleeps, and Katara…

_Katara smiles at me…_

"We understand," she says. "We all have some spots in our recent histories we'd rather not get into if we don't have to."

My smile finally forms, reaches my eyes. "Thanks."

She brushes some hair from her face. "Don't mention it."

"So," Sokka blurts, ignoring his surroundings, "this is?"

"I'm still waiting for someone to tell me what we're looking at," Toph mutters, annoyed.

"I'll make a full list for your perusal later," Katara says, still smiling at me.

Toph huffs. "Because _that_ would be helpful."

Katara winks at me. I wink back.

"Be that as it may," I say, reaching into the chest, "in answer to Sokka's question, no, that's not it." I extract a blanket, wrapped around something square and heavy. "You see," I continue, laying the bundle gently on the ground and untying the string holding it together, "my uncle felt that there would only be two occasions when we'd come back here." I unwrap the blanket, revealing a small, plain box. "Either the war would be over, or we'd be on the run again. Either way, we'd want what was in _here_." I flip the box open. I briefly consider trying to be dramatic, but decide against it when my imagination fails me.

Drama has never suited me, after all. It seems to find me all on its own, so why help it?

There are sharp intakes of breath from Sokka and Katara, and in irritated mumble from Toph at the commotion. All I can do is give a thin smile.

Inside the box are a couple of hundred cigarettes and a big bottle of spiced wine. When Katara fills Toph in, she immediately asks for some. Katara starts to say no, given Toph's age, but when I point out that it _is_ kind of the end of the world, she relents. I pass out smokes to everyone, while Katara grabs the water skin and bends a thin streak of water, which she uses to slice off the top inch of the bottle's neck. I light the smokes, Katara making me doing my finger-snapping trick, by which even Sokka is impressed.

We decide to drink the bottle there and then, being unable to find a reason to delay. It's too good a vintage to leave bouncing around on Appa's back, and besides, why not? We have a little tiff who should drink first. I want one of them to go, but they insist that it's my bottle, I saved them, and thus, I should go first.

I resist, they press, and, finally, I acquiesce.

I look at the bottle. The liquid inside is red as blood in the dim, dying light. I sniff the opening, take in the whiff of grape and spic. It's a top vintage, from the homeland, something my uncle was saving for a special day. I lift the bottle in the air, voice soft and grave.

"To my sister, for opening her mouth and making my decision all that much easier." I drink, let the cool warmth slide down my throat. The wine explodes like a bomb in my stomach. I feel hot, giddy, loose. I pass the bottle to Sokka, who follows my lead.

"To Aang. May he wake up before one of us has to start wiping his ass." He drinks, smacks his lips, passes to Katara.

"To Zuko, for sucking at being a bad guy." She takes the biggest gulp of all, sucking down wine like a champ.

Toph next. "To me, for being awesome." We laugh and applaud at that.

We continue passing the bottle around, drinking and toasting. At some point, we get the rest of the deer down from the saddle, and Katara and I cook up a simple meal. Toph is soon reeling, having never had spiced wine before, but even the rest of us, tired and not particularly well fed, feel light and breathless. Eventually, Katara and I re-pack the chest (not all that carefully, given the circumstances), after which Sokka and I haul it up to Appa's saddle. We all sleep there, centered around the Avatar.

Aang sleeps.

The rest of us try not to dream.

So, just a couple things on this note.

First, the mention of Mai. There's a good chance this all we're going to see of Mai. The fact is that the show completely ignores how relationships actually work amongst nobility and royalty, at least in the kind of societies that are portrayed. This is fine for the show (it is made for kids, after all), but it's not fine for me in this story. It made sense to me that Mai would've been the match arranged for the Crown Prince, but with his exile, Ozai would've freed Mai's family from the arrangement and, after a good four years, it's highly unlikely that Mai would still be unmarried, especially considering her family's position in the Fire Kingdom hierarchy (after all, her father's high enough in favor to be made governor of Omashu when it falls). So, enter Mai, leave Mai. Don't think that this means I hate Mai; I don't. Like Zuko up above, I have no opinion of her at all, so it's best to leave her off in the distant past.

I didn't really want to bog the narrative down with some length flashback, so, if you're curious how the stuff got there, well, read on:

Basically, when Zuko and his uncle fled the North, they took their old ship with them (more on that later). After landing in the Earth Kingdom, the whole _cutting of the topknots_ thing happened, and then they loaded up this chest and set off. Like Zuko says, they threw in anything that might possibly be of use (at this point, they were as likely to wander through Fire Nation territory as Earth Kingdom, so having some papers – some probably fake – and uniforms would be helpful). Once they had reached a safely secluded point, not fair from Ba Sing Se, they dug a hole, buried the stuff, changed into some (probably stolen) Earth Kingdom attire, and flipped a coin. The coin came down for Ba Sing Se, and off they went. And that's that.

Not all that interesting, right? That's why I didn't shoehorn it into the plot. Woo!

I'm pretty sure that covers everything. If all goes well, there will be at least one or two more updates today, and then probably nothing until the weekend. Hope you guys are still reading!


	6. Chapter 6

6. THERE'S A SMALL TOWN, A COUPLE HOURS' WALK FROM OUR _CAMP_. In the morning, after a quick hunt that rewards him with a couple of rabbits, Sokka and Katara take some of the money and head off for it. Our hope is that, in times like these, no one will care whose face is stamped on a good coin, so long as it's real. We need clothes, basic supplies, a pot, some bowls, news, _stuff_, and we need these things too much to not take a chance. Toph and I, being in possession of Earth Kingdom clothes, strip down to undergarments and give our clothes to the others. The fits aren't right, but with some adjustments, they look enough like forlorn refugees to pass muster. Toph is severely hungover from the night before, the result of her not listening when I warned that Fire Nation spice wine isn't to be trifled with. Before they leave, Katara stitches another waterskin from the remains of the deer Sokka killed the other day, fills it with water. I'm to try to get water down Aang's throat at least hourly, and attempt to slide in some pieces of food from time to time. Sokka points out that Aang is a vegetarian, and thus not likely appreciate such fare, but Katara responds, with a bit of annoyance, that the boy needs protein more than he needs principles right now.

It's then that I decide that it's going to be really hard not to develop a thing for the girl.

I sit in the silence, resting my head against the lip of the saddle, watching Aang and Toph sleep. I smoke, taking the time to savor each puff, each inhale, each exhale. It's good to have nicotine back in my system again. It helps me think.

It keeps me awake.

_It keeps my eyes open._

We'd decided, after last night's splurge, to ration the cigarettes out, the biggest portion going to me, over my objections. It's only fair, I suppose, but I'm not really comfortable with it. It's been a long time since I was accorded any kind of real _privilege_. I find my mind drifting, back to my years on the ship, wandering the seas, angry and confused. My crew shared everything equally; it was really the only way to prevent a mutiny. There were no class distinctions at all. I didn't want to follow such ideas at first, wanted to maintain Fire Nation tradition, discipline, run a form of my country in miniature. I felt, in some way, that this would convince my father that I could be allowed back into the fold. It was my uncle who taught me the error of my ways, explained things calmly, clearly, taught me how to make the most of my exile.

My uncle taught me so much…

_So much…_

_ The rocks fall…_

_**NO…**_

Sokka and Katara leave late in the morning, return late in the evening. They carry big cloth sacks laden with goods. They climb into the saddle, empty the sacks, lay the contents. It turns out that all of our worry about the coins was for naught; no one even looked twice. Thus, there's quite a haul. The siblings have bought clothes, food (mostly fruits and vegetables, plus some bread), shoes, a simple dagger, a pot, a couple bowls, a wooden spoon to stir the pot. Sokka produces a bottle of liquor from his sack, something local and cheap, while Katara pulls out a bag of tobacco and some rolling papers, giving me a wink as she lays it before me.

The single most important item, saved for last and presented by Sokka with a dramatic flourish, is also the simplest: _A bar of soap_. As Katara explains it, that was actually the hardest thing to get. No one even _blinked_ at the coins, but all balked at parting with a bar of soap. They had to put on a _sobbing refugee act_ to get it. Sokka gives a highly entertaining and well-received impression of the performance.

We bathe in the stream, taking no effort to cover up from each other. Personal privacy seems of minor importance, and we get so comfortable that even have a brief water fight in the middle of it all. We toss the bar of soap back and forth, and Sokka and I even get in a bit of a wrestling match over it. After we're all scrubbed clean (I, for one, feel a good _pound_ lighter), Sokka and I hop up on Appa and carry Aang down to the water, stripping him down and scrubbing him from head to toe while Katara makes a nice little supper. That night, we have a regular feast, dressed only in our small clothes, munching on vegetables and fruit (which Sokka grumbles about; it seems he wanted to buy a pig, but Katara put her foot down and forced him to load up on extra greens) while Katara and Sokka take turns telling us what they managed to learn on their little _shopping excursion_.

The news, it appears, is grave, in that it doesn't really exist. Confusion reigns in the countryside, and for every five people, you can apparently get six opinions. Ba Sing Se has fallen; Ba Sing Se has _not _fallen; Ba Sing Se is falling, but is currently a war zone. The countryside is rolling over for massive Fire Nation armies; the countryside is in full-on revolt. Resistance is nonexistent; resistance is strong and united. The nation has united against the invasion; the nation is as fragmented as it ever was. The Fire Nation is marching on us as we speak; the Fire Nation is in head-long retreat.

_The Avatar is dead._

_ The Avatar is alive._

_ The Avatar has simply abandoned the fight._

No one really knows what's going on. In that, we appear to be part of a general trend, and in very good company. Even the village headman, whom Katara managed to speak to, could only shrug and repeat the same rumors as everyone else.

That night, while the others are dozing off, Katara and I head off into the woods. We find a random spot, sit down, smoke, talk. This will become a tradition for us, a routine. By unspoken agreement, we avoid serious topics as much as possible, outside of general discussions of _where to next_ and _what's to do about food for tomorrow_ and _who's turn is it to take ass-wiping duty for Aang, if that should ever occur_, but for the most part, we just kind of…_talk_. We talk about our childhoods, about funny jokes and stories, about random anecdotes. We continue the process of filling each other in about the parts of our stories that the other missed. I tell her things I'd never tell anyone else, and I get the feeling that she does the same.

_I even tell her how I got my scar…_

I don't know why, but I always feel like we're the only two grown-ups in the group, no matter who ends up being present. Before, she was the mother, cooking, cleaning, caring. Suddenly, I'm there, and I'm helping her do all of those things. She thanks me every chance she gets. Every time, I get flustered and tell her it's nothing, the least I can do. I always praise her strength, her drive, her compassion. Somehow, this makes her flustered in return.

We get flustered together.

Throughout the next few weeks, I embark into an unknown realm. Toph and I tease each other like siblings. Sokka and I tell each other dirty jokes (an exchange that I always lose, because his repertoire is truly _epic_) and act like silly boys; I even start helping him improve his swordsmanship. He's a natural, so it's not terribly difficult going. And all the while, Katara and I go on walks, talk, cook, clean, brush Appa, laugh, giggle…

I have a lot of difficulty handling this, I won't lie. It's all pretty strange, stranger than anything that's ever happened to me. Sometimes, I get so freaked out about it, that I can't sleep at night, I lay awake for hours and panic. I always calm down, but the confusion is still there, and all because of one simple fact:

_I've never had friends before._

* * *

So, this one pretty much speaks for itself, too. Not all that much to add, other than to point out, to anyone who feels it's going too slow, that we're very much about filling in some of the big gaping holes that were left in the original series. The biggest one, I felt, was the time-skip from Book 2 to Book 3, which we're going to fill in, while also laying the ground work for stuff that happens later.

Also, to this hypothetical person who's impatient, let me assure you that your patience will be rewarded. One of the big things I'm going to address in this project is the simple fact that the series does its best to pretend that this is history's most bloodless war. This will not be the case in my little fanfic here. When there are battles, people will die. There will be blood, and there will actually be high stakes.

Second to last note, if you're impatient for Aang, well, chill. Aang is one of those characters who has a tendency to suck the air out of a room; thus, I'm spending time establishing everyone else before that can happen. Plus, he really was in a coma in Canon at this point, though here, Aang's coma is going to last a bit longer.

Final note, someone in the reviews pointed out that, in Canon, Sokka is _younger_ than Zuko, by almost a year. I looked it up, and I stand corrected. That said, it's too late now, so we're going to roll with it. That one's my bad, and I apologize.

Otherwise, read on!


	7. Chapter 7

7. WE ADOPT A ROUTINE. We travel for a day, rest for a day. The resting is as much to stop, gather bearings, figure out what's next, as it is to actually _rest_. When we're neat a village or a town, Sokka and Katara will head out, try to get news, gather information, but some supplies. Toph and I always stay behind. Sokka and Katara can pass as refugees, but the rest of us? There just aren't that many scarred twenty-two-year-olds in the world, nor all that many blind teenagers that talk like upper nobility.

Through it all, our lives very much revolve around the comatose Airbender in our midst. The vast majority of the nitty-gritty devolves upon Katara and I. We wash him, feed him, clean him. We make sure he's in a comfortable position. We feel for his pulse and listen for his heartbeat (though Toph comes quite in handy for this). We bandy theories about where his mind is. Sokka believes that he was dragged to some eternal party, up in the Spirit World, with endless food and drink and hordes of giggling teenage girls to fawn over him, and that he's just having too much fun to come back (Sokka, as far as I can see, mostly uses this theory to fantasize about food). Katara theorizes that he's fantasizing of a world where Katara does all the chores without complaint, and appreciates his more teenager-y moments, and never gripes at him (though, in private, with me, she admits that she _really_ thinks he's been sucked into some fantasy where the way never happened). Meanwhile, Toph offers that he's just avoiding the fact that, with me there, if we wakes up, he'll have not just two, but _three_ irritable bending instructors.

My own idea, for the record, is the most realistic, but also the most lame. I can't help but point out that, maybe, just _maybe_, he's in a legit coma, backing this up with the information that, when I got my own scar (a comment that makes Katara reach over and squeeze my shoulder), it was a good two-to-three weeks before I woke up; lightning attacks, I tell them, can do strange things to the body and, most importantly, the mind.

The others don't like this theory, and I have to admit, I agree with them. It raises to many possibilities, too many questions, too many concerns. The fun theories are more comforting, and even I have to admit that Sokka's lively descriptions of the food at the theoretical feast are far too entertaining to discount or ignore. It even becomes a new game for us, creating the menu for this feast. It gets quite obscene and complex.

IT's Katara and I who get into the serious questions that the others are avoiding, late at night on our smoking excursions. It's one of the few times we break our unspoken _no serious stuff _rule. We run in endless circles. She grills me on my own recovery process, all those years ago, and on other things I might know about recovering from a lightning attack. Will Aang have his memories when comes back? Will he be the same person? Better? Worse? Insane? She doesn't relish the idea of Aang regressing. Apparently, from what she tells me, in the beginning, Aang was a fairly typical fourteen-year-old boy: Flighty, pervy, impatient, resistant to reason and ignorant of caution. It'd taken most of the past year of trial-and-error to even _begin_ to turn him into a tolerable human being. To go right back to the beginning, not just undoing his personal progress but his bending progress? She shudders at the thought.

One night, I point out that it could be _that_ bad. We've stopped in a deep valley, cut out by a fast-flowing river. Trees line the banks, but up on the ridge above, it's nothing but gently waving grass. We lay in the grass, smoking and looking up at the stars, when I make my observation.

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"Well…I mean, just look at _me_. When I was exiled, I was lonely, angry, immature…you know, an eighteen-year-old pampered prince."

She scoffs. "From what you're told me, you were anything _but_ pampered."

"True, maybe not in the traditional sense, but the point still stands. I wasn't like this in the beginning. Gods, I wasn't even like this a year ago. If _I_ can turn into a functional adult in a relatively short amount of time, then it stands to reason that the fucking _Avatar_ sure as hell can."

She rolls over onto her side, props her face in a hand to look down at me. "You really don't give yourself, like, any credit, do you?"

I shrug. "Takes one to know one."

"Heh…yeah…be that as it may, though, I'm just tired of being the _mom_ to this group of misfits. I'm finally getting them trained, and if Aang comes back completely regressed back to the beginning…just…_ugh_. _No._"

I smile up at her. "You don't have to mom _me._"

She smiles, soft and sweet. "Well, yeah. Why else are we becoming friends?"

I blink in the gathering darkness. "We're friends?" I'd long since started thinking of them that way, but to have one of _them_, especially Katara, say it back to me? And like that, all calm, casual, like it was the most natural thing in the world? It's a lot to take in.

She, for her part, also looks confused. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Well…" I fumble for words, for excuses, settle for the truth. "I guess…I never really _had_ a friend before."

She looks at me for a very long time, then, out of nowhere, leans down and kisses me softly on the cheek. "Well, you've got one now." She rolls back onto the ground, but…closer this time. I can feel her body heat beside me, feel the pressure of her weight in the grass. I rub my cheek, smile.

_It's nice to have friends._

The catacombs, with their flashing whips and falling rocks, seem very far away, even if only for a moment.

* * *

Not much to add here! Again! And I actually mean it this time!

Alright, real quick, just heading off a question here: What's Sokka doing during all this? Well, the dude's hunting. It's kind of what he does. Also imagine him fashioning, like, a bow and arrow or something, working and whittling and shit. Why else did he get that small dagger? One problem with a first-person perspective is that we're kind of limited to one person's experiences. As the other designated full adult in the group (which I think we all noticed even in Canon, once Zuko joined up), Zuko spends most of his time doing _designated adult shit_ with Katara. If you know what it means to take care of a coma patient, it's doesn't take much to believe that both Sokka and Toph would get themselves as far away as possible.

Also, I'm happy to tell you that we're about to come out of our story lull here. Shit's going to start happening, and we're going to start building to the Day of the Black Sun, which in this story is going to be a bit more complex and a fuckton more bloody. Also, Aang will wake up at some point. Stay tuned!


	8. Chapter 8

Quick Note: I say this in my profile, but in case you didn't read that, I fucking _love_ fan art and shit. So, if you or a more artistically inclined friend are feeling inspired, please, show me what you've got! I'll even link it up here if you want me to!

* * *

8. WE'RE ALMOST THREE WEEKS OUT OF BA SING SE BEFORE WE FINALLY GET SOME RELIABLE INFORMATION. We've been heading more or less south and easy, angling away from the Si Wong Desert. We have a loose, ill-defined plan of heading for Chameleon Bay and striking out for the Eastern Air Temple, the idea being that maybe there, Aang will be able to tap into some sort of mystical Air Nomad crap and wake the hell up. At the very least, it'll be a good place to chill and figure out our next step. It's simple enough, but getting there isn't. We can't head by a direct route, and instead have to move by zig-zags and meanderings, on the off-chance that we're being followed. It's getting harder, too; the closer we get to the coast, the harder it is to find reasonably isolated camp sites. Factor in an outrageous amount of confusion and dysfunction in the countryside, and really, it's a wonder that we made as good time as we did.

We'd parked Appa on a deserted stretch of beach that day. The placid waters of Chameleon Bay stretched out before us. The day after we landed, Katara and Sokka headed off for a fishing village we'd spotted on the way in, looking for information (as usual) and, maybe, some fresh fish (which Sokka has begun demanding at every chance he gets). More than anything else, though, the information was important. Had Fire Nation naval patrols reached the bay? What was the pirate situation? Did anyone know what we might find at the Eastern Air Temple? Things like. At the mention of pirates, Toph made a crack to that if there were, maybe I could tie Katara to a tree again, which earned her a smack upside the head which she seemed to think was well worth it.

While they were gone, Toph and I did Aang-related stuff and just in general wandered up and down the shore. We didn't talk about too much; we rarely did, the age difference being was it was. She really liked to have me do firebending, and she definitely liked to show off; the way she looked at me, it was almost as if she _looked up_ to me, like I was this goofy big brother she'd never had. I found myself slipping into the role, whenever we were left to our own devices, teaching her random shit that I knew. That day, for example, was rock skipping, which she turned out to be a natural at. I wasn't terribly surprised; skipping rocks out into the ocean (or across any body of water) is largely a function of balance and being able to sense the angles, two skills Toph had in abundance. She so good, in fact, that she was soon, very loudly and very proudly, kicking my ass, which was why I was quite busy fuming when the others shouted to us from up the beach. When they reached us, they were sweaty and worn out; they'd practically _ran_ the whole way back. I built up a small fire to cook some broth while they recovered their breath, and we were eating slowly when a third figure joined the party.

The man introduced himself as Li Shang, an officer in the Earth Kingdom's Imperial Army (what passed for a regular army here). He was dressed in civilian clothes, but every move he made, every breath he took, revealed himself to be a soldier. He was a talk, well-built man, somewhere in his thirties, with a strong jaw and features seemingly hewn from oak. When he took off his peasant hat, he revealed a close-cropped military haircut, and the sword he drew from his satchel sealed the deal in proving his bona fides. Katara and Sokka had met him in the village; when they proved themselves members of the Water Tribes, he had grown very excited (or at least as excited as a man like that can be), and had proved a regular fountain of information. So much information, in fact, that Katara had quickly realized that there was no possible way it could be relayed back to the rest of us accurately, so she'd taken a chance and invited him back to camp. He had been hesitant at first, but eventually, he had come, following slowly behind while they ran ahead.

"No, thank you," he said, with a voice like crushed gravel, when I offered him some of the broth, "I really can't stay long." His shrewd eyes looked me up and down as I took a place on the sand between Katara and Toph, and he seemed to be searching his mind for something. Finally, he said, "Do I know you?"

I thought about it, but couldn't seem to place him. Maybe he'd heard my story? It was possible, but unlikely. The odds were good he was just noticing the faint resemblance between myself and the pictures of my father that dotted the land.

"Possibly," I said, "but it's a long story."

He nodded. "Fair enough. The land is full of strange tales and strange people, but if you're friends with these two," he gestured at Katara and Sokka, "then you're alright in my book."

I bowed my head. "Thank you, sir."

He bowed back, then turned to his satchel to return his sword and pull out a pipe. He filled it with tobacco and lit it with a burning stick from the fire. Sokka almost gave the whole game away when he opened his mouth, probably to tell me to light the man's pipe for him, but was silenced when Katara elbowed him hard in the side. When she turned back to me, I gave her a look, as if to say, _Does he know about our special cargo?_ She shook her head slowly, and I nodded. Discretion is, as they say, the better part of valor.

Li Shang took a few puffs on his pipe, sighed, and said, "Well, where shall I begin?"

"The general things, I think," Katara said. "We've really no idea what's going on out in the wider world."

He nodded. "Right. Well, the long and short of it is…chaos. Pure and simple."

"So," I said, "Ba Sing Se is officially fallen?"

He gave a mournful sigh. "Yes, I'm afraid so. There's a Fire Nation garrison in the capital, and Emperor Kuei, spirits protect him, has been put in chains. What little unity we as a kingdom had has been completely shattered."

Sokka leaned in, jabbing out a finger. "Now, that's one thing I don't get. What's with all this, _what little unity we had is gone_ stuff?"

Li Shang made an apologetic face. "Unfortunately, my friend, the Earth Kingdom has never been what one would call…well…_united_. Sure, there's the Emperor in Ba Sing Se, but if he's weak, then a lot of power falls onto the local barons and dukes and lords, many of whom hate each other as much as they hate the Fire Nation. And it doesn't help that the last strong emperor we had died fighting Sozin over ninety years ago."

Katara sighed. "Didn't you ever wonder why Bumi called himself a king, even though he was part of the Earth Kingdom, and paid allegiance to the Emperor in Ba Sing Se?"

Sokka shrugged. "No, not really."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Of course not. Please, sir, continue."

The crux of the matter, as Li Shang explained, was a lack of will. Before, the government had always been able to unite resistance around the Emperor. Now that _that_ was no longer a possibility, resistance had fractured and fragmented. The Imperial Army, of which Li Shang was a part, was still determined to fight on, but over the years, it had had to rely more and more upon local levies brought to the battlefield by various local potentates and men who, at best, could be described as _warlords_. Thus, though there _was_ resistance, it was disunited at _best_, and too many lords and barons and dukes and kings had packed up and taken their troops home. Some carried on the fight on their own, some were trying to chart a course of neutrality, and some…

He fell silent here, took a deep breath, spoke in a tone full of shame and humiliation.

"Some, I'm afraid, are coming to terms with the enemy."

I had to lean back, so distressing was this news, while Toph actually leaped to her feet and shouted, "_What?!_ _That's impossible!_"

Li Shang shook his head. "I'm afraid not, m'lady." Even out here, every word Toph uttered marked her as a member of the nobility. "Especially in the areas closest to the conquered regions, treason and desertion is rife. Even those lords who aren't turning their colors are taking advantage of the situation to start fighting amongst themselves. As I said, it's chaos."

I mulled this over, said, "And what about the Fire Nation?"

"That's the confusing thing, actually. I don't think they were actually prepared for victory. They threw a lot in a quick seizure of Ba Sing Se, and now that they actually seem to have _won_, they don't seem able to capitalize on it."

I nodded. "That makes sense, actually."

Toph was still stomping around in a fury, but Katara turned to me and said, "How so?"

"We-I mean, the Fire nation has always been smaller than the Earth Kingdom. Sure, they had discipline and unity of purpose, but at the end of the day, it was always going to be difficult to conquer and hold the entire kingdom."

"And now that they've cut the head off the serpent," she finished, "a hundred more have sprung into its place."

I nod. "So it seems." I turned to Li Shang, said, "Does that sound accurate, sir?"

He sighed, nodded. "I'm afraid so. I'm not sure what that says about our chances in the near future, but there is it."

Toph stomped back over. "So, there is hope?"

Li Shang shook his head. "Not much. The Fire Nation will eventually recover, and will eventually adapt, regardless of whether or not the rumors of rebellion in the colonies are true. Even if they only manage to prop up a puppet Emperor, there are just enough people sick of the war to make their conquest, in fact if not in name, more or less complete."

Toph slumped to the ground, wiped her eyes. "So, it's over…"

Li Shang smiled. "Well, I wouldn't go that far."

As if that was his cue, Sokka leaped to his feet, taking a deep breath as if to scream at the top of his lungs before Katara clapped her hand over his mouth and pulled him back down. "Not yet, brother. There's one more bit, remember?"

Sokka nodded, his face downcast and glum. He obviously didn't care much about any other information that what he had been about to shout. I leaned over to Katara, whispered, "Exciting news, I take it?"

Her reaction caught me off guard. All she did was make a face, lean back over, and whisper, "Some of it is. You'll see." Then she resumed her position and motioned for Li Shang to continue. When he spoke, he spoke in a manner that indicated that he was used to a reaction that he wasn't about to get.

"Well, the other piece of news, which, incidentally enough, leads to my last piece, is that, according to the Fire Nation, at least, the Avatar is…well…_dead._"

As he told it, after we'd escaped, Azula had decided to cut to the chase and declare that Aang was dead and gone. Which, I thought, wasn't a bad move. She had a decent chance of being right, and even if he _wasn't_ dead, he was incapacitated enough as made no difference. Really, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was a brilliant move. If the Avatar was believed alive, then resistance would have a rallying point. With no sign of him, though, and one side of the conflict claiming his death, the forces opposing my father's bid for world domination had no game plan, no unifying force. And besides, as the officer himself put it:

"Not that it really matters much." He took a long pull on his pipe before finishing his thought. "After all, it's not like the Avatar accomplished all that much while he was active. Sure, he helped the North defend itself, but Ba Sing Se still fell, with his presence or without."

We really had nothing to say to this. It was a sobering thought, sure, and not a little bit unfair, but, unfortunately, the man had a point. A painful, not entirely valid point, but a point nonetheless.

I leaned forward, face kept purposely blank. "Have you, by any chance, heard anything about Crown Prince Zuko…?"

He eyed me for a long time, puffing on his pipe, before answering. "Not really, no. Rumor has it that he died fighting pirates two seasons ago, not long after the Siege of the North. From what we can tell, all of the Fire Nation seems to assume that Princess Azula is the heir apparent."

I leaned back, trying hard not to look depressed. I know it's selfish and childish to say, but, the fact is that this particular piece of information had a great, negative effect on me. Even here, at the end of the world, I was considered a worthless nonentity. My sister hadn't even bothered to put a bounty on my head, it seemed, and really, why bother? It wasn't like I was worth the embarrassment.

I kept these thoughts to myself, though, at least for the moment. They really did seem outrageously immature, completely out-of-character for me. The war was as good as lost, and _this_ is the detail that my brain decides to hone in on? _Pathetic_. It would be several nights before I'd finally voice these thoughts, and of course it would be to Katara. I said it hesitantly, almost sheepishly, ready to be smacked around at any moment. What did she do, though? She rested a hand on my shoulder, and told me, in a calm, soothing voice, not to be so hard on myself. _After all, you're only human, Zuko_. It made me feel better, but not by much.

I may be human, but at a time like this, it doesn't serve to be _that_ human.

"So," Toph said, finally seated and, to outward appearances at least, calm, "that's it then, right? That's all there is to it." She glared at Sokka. "Though I'm still curious as to what _you_ were so excited about, Snoozles."

"I'm with Toph," I say, rubbing the back of my neck. My scar ached, worse than it had since this whole ordeal had started. "What else was there?"

At this, Li Shang smiled, packed his things away, and stood to go. "Well, I believe I'll leave the rest of this story with my young comrades here." He turned to Katara, whose face was a startling contrast to her brother's, pale and empty, almost cold. Whatever the news was, she wasn't _nearly_ as excited about it as Sokka was. "You remember where I told you to go?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir. We'll see you in a few days."

He bowed. "Or maybe even sooner. Until then, young friends."

He was barely out of sight before Sokka finally exploded. "_We're going to see our dad again!_" He leaped to his feet, dancing and jumping and leaping around the fire. Confused, I turn to Katara. "What now?" I ask.

"Well," Katara says, her face showing very little of her brother's excitement, "it all comes down to what happens in…oh…about four months or so."

I scratch my head, thinking. "Umm…fall?"

Katara rolls her eyes. "No, what _else_ happens in four months?"

I let that percolate in my brain, sifting through fragments and figures and facts. I really haven't the faintest idea just what the hell she's talking about, and Sokka's antics aren't help me concentrate. I blot him out as best as I can, open up a mental calendar, start flipping through the pages, examining holidays and special occasions and anniversaries and-

And…

_And…_

It hits me, like a spark in the darkness. My eyes fly wide, and I almost leap to my feet with shock. _No_. I shake my head. _No. Fucking. __**Way.**_

"A solar fucking eclipse." The implications are mind-boggling. _They couldn't really…no…no way…but why not?_

_ You know what not._

Katara nods, while Sokka takes up a new chant, using my phrase of _solar fucking eclipse._

Toph chimes in. "What's so special about a solar fucking eclipse?"

Katara turns to her, her voice even and cool. "You know how I explained that a waterbender's powers wax and wane with the moon?"

"Right," Toph says, nodding, "and how you're strongest during a full moon and weakest during a new moon."

"Firebending works in much the same way," I say, settling back down. "We rarely attack at night, because the higher up the sun is, the stronger we are. Thus, when there's a solar eclipse…"

"You're weak," Toph finishes. She ponders, lifts an inquisitive finger. "How weak, exactly?"

"If the eclipse is total? Powerless. As long as the eclipse lasts, we're completely unable to bend our element."

"So," Toph continues, "you're vulnerable."

"Very, if we're unprepared."

Katara sighs. "So, have you guess the news yet? Have you guess why our father is nearby, or why that Earth Kingdom officer was in town, or why we'll be seeing him soon?"

I nod, slowly, carefully, trying not to let my emotions show. My heart has sunk low in my chest, cold and heavy. I look down at the fire, mouth tight, a dull ache building in my head. I'm reluctant to look at their faces. I know what I'll see there. I'll see hope, faith, the broke gambler's unshakeable belief in the last throw of the dice. I know that if I look up, I'll see Katara. I won't look anywhere else. I don't how I know this, but I do. I'll look in her eyes, see the desperation there, see the big blue eyes, begging me to give her some kind of hope, some inkling that this is a _good idea_, and I won't be able to say what needs to be said. She called me her friend, and friends tell painful truths, no matter what. I already know I'll bend in the end, but there's something I have to say first, something that will need to be clear.

But what hope do I have? It's not like I have a better plan.

I pull a cigarette out of my pocket, light it, take a deep, long drag. "Go ahead," I say, "tell the rest, make it official."

Katara opens her mouth, but before she can speak, Sokka cuts in, practically leaping over the fire and babbling in almost incomprehensible excitement:

"There's going to be an invasion! They're putting together a small force, warriors and benders and just everyone they can find! They're gathering right here, up the beach, here on Chameleon Bay! As soon as they're strong enough, they're going to set sail, make for the Fire Nation! We're going to cut the head off the dragon, and _win the war!_" He leaps back and forth, giddy with glee, shoves his fists into the air, almost screams one last part. "_And our dad is going to be in charge, and so __**he's going to be there!**_"

I don't want to look up, I really don't, but I do. I can't help it. Sokka's joy is infectious. He's literally dancing around, cackling with glee. I turn to Toph, see excitement writ plain on her face. A moment builds, there amid the crackling of the fire. Here, finally, after three weeks of nothing, is hope. Here, finally, is direction. Here, finally is purpose, something more constructive than changing the Avatar's loincloth twice a day.

_Here, finally, is something to __**do**_.

At last, I turn to Katara. Sokka has bounded past us, has picked Toph up and is swinging her around and around, but Katara, to my shock, sits still. She's not smiling. Her eyes are full, full of concern, her mouth drawn tight, pensiveness etched into every line of her face.

"What do you think, Zuko? About all of this," she asks, in a voice small and soft. The merry dance continues just out of sight, the whooping and hollering and giggling making Appa snort in derision, but here, by the fire, is silence.

It's really only us. Her and me. Along at the fire.

"I don't know what to think," I say. My scar aches, stronger than ever. "It's…a lot to take in."

She nods, slow, deliberate. "It is." She finishes her broth, stands, smiles down at me. "How about we go for a walk?"

I almost beg off, I really do. I'm tired of being the downer. Can't I be the one whooping with glee? _Just once?_

"Sounds good," I say, and stand.

* * *

Holy fuck shit, that's a lot of exposition! Sorry about that, guys, but in order to take a leap, you have to make sure you're jumping from a sturdy platform. That's just the way of good writing (or, at least, _passable_ writing), my friends.

Couple things to comment on here. One, it always blew my mind that we're expected to believe, in Canon, that this crazy, insane gamble of an invasion is, for one thing, never questioned (especially not by Katara, who's got a better head on her shoulders than, well, anyone in the Canon Gaang at that point), and, for another thing, is supposed to be the unquestioned brainchild of a teenager. Yeah, no, _fuck that_. It's also crazy that we're expected to believe that pieces of lore like, say, waterbenders' link to the moon, or firebenders' vulnerability during solar eclipses, not being general knowledge, at least among benders. The world has been at war for a fucking century; you really think this shit would remain secret for long? And besides, Ozai's too genre savvy to take a chance that it _would_ remain secret.

For another thing, this is where having Zuko present would really make things interesting. Zuko was trained from both to lead and go to war. He'd know, more than anyone currently available to the Allies, what the actual likelihood of success here is. And you know what? He's just as susceptible to hope as any of the rest. The Avatar's on death's fucking door; what else are they gunna try? Hence his conflict. He doesn't want to be the downer; he really fucking likes these people, and he's in it to win it, just as much as they are. But he's going to spill to Katara; he always does. It's their thing, even in Canon.

So yeah, we're moving over the hump and into the real nitty-gritty here, guys. We get to meet Hakoda in the next couple chapters, and the Gaang gets ready to go to war. I'm actually really fucking stoked about the Day of the Black Sun. There's going to be some build-up, but it'll be worth it.

Also, if I'm boring you with these last few chapters, please let me know. I'm not sure it'll affect my game plan much, but it'd be nice knowing.

Last but not least, points to anyone who caught the _Mulan_ reference up there. Woo!


	9. Chapter 9

9. WE WALK IN SILENCE UNTIL WE'RE FAR ENOUGH AWAY THAT WE CAN'T HEAR SOKKA'S EXCITEMENT. We settle down at the edge of the beach, take off our shoes, let the water lap over our bare feet. I light our cigarettes, and we puff in silence.

"So," Katara says, looking off across the bay, "are you gunna spill, or am I gunna have to beat it out of you?"

I laugh. "I'll spill, I'll spill. I wouldn't have let you drag me out here if I wasn't going spill."

She scoffs. "You were coming whether you wanted to or not."

I smile. "Yeah, no doubt, but still, it's not that I'm not talking, I'm just…I'm trying to think of how to put what I want to say into words."

"Heh…you know what our problem is?"

"What?"

"We think too much."

"Yeah…true. But still…look, before I say what I'm going to say, I just want you to know that I don't think we shouldn't go meet with your father, or that we shouldn't hear the plan out, or, hell, that we shouldn't even _attempt _it. We should totally go find your dad, and as far as the last…well…I have no answers."

"But…?"

I take a deep breath. I close my eyes. I try to clear my mind.

_I'm on my knees…_

_ The entire court is laughing, watching and laughing…_

_ My sister smiles…_

_ My father raises his hand…_

_ I try to open my mouth…_

_ Lightning…_

_ Pain…_

_ I scream…_

_ Blackness…_

I open my eyes.

"It's not going to work."

A long, heavy silence. The sea is calm, an endless black sheet of glass, the breeze blowing out from its depths salty and cool. My hair ruffles along my brow. I run my fingers through it, wonder, for the thousandth time, how I look. _Probably like some homeless bum._ I turn to Katara, watch her smoke in silence. Her Earth Kingdom clothes don't fit quite right, none of our clothes do, and her hair, despite her best efforts, is ragged, full of split ends. I think of Sokka, who has stopped even _attempting_ to maintain his warrior's braid, and Toph, with her feet caked in dirt, her toenails ugly and mangled. _Some world saving army __**we**__ look…_

"Of course it's not."

I blink, confused. "Come again?"

She sighs, pulls her knees up. I've come to think of this as her _Thinking Pose_, how she arranges herself when she needs to concentrate. Everybody has them, I suppose. Sokka sprawls out on the ground and stares at the sky, Toph plants her feet in the ground and closes her eyes, Katara perches her chin on her knees, and I…

_I smoke and stare at horizons…_

Whatever works, I suppose.

"Well," Katara says, blowing out a thick stream of smoke, "think about it. There's just no way it's a viable plan." She turns her face to me, mouth thin, eyes small, far away. "Why do you think that?"

"Why do _you?_"

"I asked you first."

"You're always first."

"And don't forget it. Now, as we were saying…"

I breathe deep, let it out, slow, calm. It doesn't work, but it helps me concentrate.

"It's the classic mistake, is all, thinking that your enemy hasn't already thought of whatever it is you're planning to do. I mean, if you know a weakness, they do. So, I can assure you, there's some kind of plan in place for this."

"Which is…?"

_Sigh_. "I don't know. Even Crown Princes aren't typically let in on stuff like that, especially when my father's the man in charge, and…well…let's just say that I dropped the ball on my first real day of Crown Princing."

She made a face, sympathetic if grim, scotched closer to me, laid a hand, light, small, on my shoulder. I felt it there, felt the warmth, the concern, tried to give her a smile. She smiled back.

_Moment, fabric stretched over a knife…_

I reached up, squeezed her hand, let my hand fall back into my lap.

"If I had to say, though," I continued, "there's probably some kind of…bunker or…safehouse, or something like that, where the Royal Family can hide out."

"Which will be heavily guarded, of course."

"Naturally. And I can assure you, the Royal Guard's training doesn't stop at advanced firebending techniques."

She takes her hand away, resumes her thinking stance. "So, this'll be no cakewalk."

"Of course not. Is anything?"

"Heh…true. Hey, Zuko?"

"Yeah?"

"This just popped into my head, so it's still forming, but bear with me. What's your father's defining characteristic?"

"Good question…besides cruelty and being a dick? Umm…I'd have to go with arrogance."

"Right. So, taking that into account, what do you think if, maybe, I dunno…what if he's so arrogant, _he actually isn't expecting this._ I mean, the plan is so rock stupid…"

I laugh. "It just might actually work. If we take refuge in audacity…"

"Which we've never lacked…"

"Then we might be able, just might, maybe, _possibly_, be able to pull it off."

We float for a bit, together, up into the darkening sky. The wind blows, and I feel light, airy. I think of all the unlikely things that have already happened, the magnificently impossible year we've all just lived through. I think of the return of the Avatar, of the Spirit of the Moon storming through the fleet at the Siege of the North, of the escape through tunnels of sparkling rocks beneath Ba Sing Se…

_Of the pretty girl sitting next to me…_

_ Of the pretty girl who doesn't hate me…_

I strike that thought.

_The __**beautiful woman**__..._

"A lot of people are going to die, aren't they?"

I turn to her. She's looking away, into the distance. Dying sunlight dances among the tears in her eyes. She sniffs, wipes her nose, sniffs some more.

I look away.

"Yes," I say. My voice is hoarse and cracked, almost a whisper. Visions dance before me. I see bodies floating like logs through the sea, up in the North. I see forms fighting, dying, screaming, down in the dust of Ba Sing Se. I see an old battlefield, bones bleached white by the sun. I see Sokka, wiping blood from a spear. I see a pirate, shuddering out his last breath, my sword through his stomach, his face no older than mine…

I see…

I see…

"But not us." I don't know why I say it, or where it comes from. It just…_is_. I don't know what they mean, those three words. My mind recoils at the promise within, but I ignore my mind, that rational beast sitting at the source, the source of fear, of insecurity…

_Of doubt…_

I've never meant anything so much in my entire life. That, at least, I know.

We're looking at each other now. We're very close together. Tears roll down her cheeks.

"Promise?"

There is no sound, only lips moving, there, on her face. I read them, I see them.

"_Promise._"

She hurls herself into my arms, our cigarettes flying off into the sea, buries her face in my chest, lets it out. I hold her tight, feel my eyes burn, shake the sensation away.

_Now now…_

_ Not yet…_

_ If I start now, I'll never stop, so it'll just have to wait…_

A final thought, there in the gloom, a final, anguished memory.

_The pirate looks up at me, my sword through his stomach, his eyes unbelieving, uncomprehending. Tears well in his eyes. I look at his face. The fight rages around me. Cheers are starting to go up from my crew. He's no older than me. This shakes me to my core. His lips move…_

_ I don't want to die…_

I close my eyes. The tears are close, but I don't let them come. I feel the dampness on my shirt as Katara burrows deeper into my chest. I close my eyes, and pray.

_I don't want to die, either…_

* * *

So, yeah…that was a bit rough. I hope it was for you, too. The whole point of this chapter was twofold. One, I wanted to voice my objections to the Black Sun Invasion, and express my dissatisfaction that none of the characters seemed to be aware of the fact that it was a rock-fucking-stupid plan. I mean, they _had_ to know, and I really don't blame them. In their position, I would've thrown the dice, too. At the time, what other choice did they have? Huddle on a random island, hope Aang woke the fuck up? The Gaang isn't made for that.

Finally, two, I think it's important that we establish just what the stakes are here. This story will never forget that it's taking place in the middle of a war. People are going to die. Blood is going to be shed. Our heroes are going to kill people. And, most of all, I refuse to promise that they'll all make it out alive.

But that's all for now…keep reading, please!


	10. Chapter 10

10. WE STAY A WEEK WITH THE BUDDING INVASION ARMY. It turns out that they were only a day's ride by Appa along the shore. When we arrive, there are only a few hundred, mostly Water Tribe warriors led, I'm told, by Katara's father, an impressively tough-looking man named _Hakoda_. The similarities between him and Sokka are striking, almost unreal. Hakoda is basically just Sokka with about twenty extra years or so. He's brawnier, sure, and carries himself with a confidant authority that only age and experience can bring, but his eyes have the same sparkle that his son's on, and his jokes are just as lame and, as I soon learn, his appetite is just as comically large.

The family's reunion is everything one could ever hope for in such an occasion. Sokka and Katara all but _leap_ off Appa's back, running full steam down the beach, leaping into their father's arms. There are tears of joy and laughter and kisses all around. The son and the father almost crush each other, and Hakoda lifts his daughter up and swings her round-and-round. It really is a sight to see, a true, genuine, heartfelt _hope spot_.

Toph and I hang back, watching. I'm narrating the scene for her when she huffs, mutters, "So sweet you'll get a fucking tooth ache," before stomping off. I don't blame her. From what I've gathered, Toph's family life was anything but _sweet_ or _pleasant_, and even if she _did_ want to see her parents again, it'd be impossible. And as for me, well…

The less said, the better. I just did my best to be happy for my friends.

Our self-imposed separation didn't last long. Katara comes back, grabs us both by the hand, drags us over to where her father stands. Hakoda is very warm and polite to Toph, trotting out all of his courtesies, which causes Toph to roll her eyes and ask him, politely, to _please cut the bullshit_. Hakoda blinks in confusion, then breaks into a hysterical laugh that's so much like Sokka's that it's almost spooky. Friendly pats and hair ruffles fly around, and then, finally, Hakoda turns to me.

I'd be lying if I said it didn't get a little awkward. His eyes narrowed as he looked me up and down, his face hard, his expression cold and unreadable. More of the men were wandering over from the camp. A dozen or so replays of the first greetings were played out in miniature, embraces for Sokka and Katara, friendly pats for the curious little earthbender, and then…well…

_Barely concealed hatred_ would not, I think, be too strong a phrase to use.

"I know you, don't I." It's not a question, more like a low growl from the back of the chief's throat. I try not to feel awkward, flustered, flummoxed, but it's hard not to. What, exactly, does one say in such a situation? Fuck if I know. _Meeting the father of two people you once hunted and whose wife was murdered by your people_ isn't exactly something covered in _Fire Nation Royalty Etiquette Classes_.

I decide on the somewhat direct tack, coughing into my hand and trying to adopt a blank face. I look straight into Chief Hakoda's eyes; it's the only way to block out the couple dozen warriors gathering at that moment to glare at me.

"Well, not _personally_, I imagine…" I wince. The words sound lame, even by my rather low standards. "But…umm…you see…"

An arm slips through mine, pulls me tight against the owner. Somehow, I keep my eyes from going wide as saucers.

"This, Daddy, is Zuko. He saved us in Ba Sing Se, and he's our friend now." I'm sure she's smiling that sweet little smile of hers, I just _know_ she is, I can hear it in her voice, and I know that she's _trying_ to help, trying as hard as she possibly can. She's _trying_ to say, to show, that I'm a friend, that I can be trusted,. I'm sure her face says, _See, Daddy? I like him, so you can, too!_

In that moment, the biggest thought in my head was wonder how Katara, the smartest person I've ever known, could be so…well…_silly_. This is brought home to me as I watch Hakoda's eyes actually grow _narrower_, his face _harder_, his manner _more_ threatening. He looked from me, to Katara, back to me, back to Katara, and I'm fairly certain that my doom would be at hand if not for the fact that Sokka – of all people – saves the day.

"Yup, that's Zuko," he says, throwing a manly arm around my shoulders in a very manly way. "Sure, he was _once_ the heir to the Fire Nation throne, but since he's been in exile for the past, oh…_four years_, well…we can't really hold that against him, now, can we?"

The chief's eyes widen a little, and all seem to take a step back, _curious musing_ slowly replacing _veiled hatred_ on their faces. "Exile?" Hakoda mumbles, stroking his bearded chin. "Is that so?"

"You bet!" Sokka continues. I've never been so thankful for that flippant manner of his. "And let's not forget the high treason."

Hakoda's eyes fly a little wider. "_Treason?_"

"Perhaps," Katara says, a smile as wide as the world on her face, "we should explain."

Hakoda nods. "Yes…explain. That…that would be…_nice_…"

Explanations take place in a crowded tent, stuff and hot, filled with the smoke from the men's pipes. They listened, quietly, as Sokka and Katara take turns filling in the gaps in the general knowledge of their adventures, during which I learn things even _I_ hadn't known. A decent amount of time is taken up explaining that I'd never been much of a villain (much to my chagrin), which segues nicely into Katara telling about the Crystal Catacombs. She tells the whole story, how we'd been thrown in together, how Azula had caught Aang with a lightning bold, how I'd pretended to throw in with my sister, how I'd been told to deliver the killing blow to the prostrate Avatar…

I close my eyes at this, close my ears. I don't want to think about it, don't want to recall, don't want to relive how I'd hurt my sister.

_If only father had been there…_

_ It would've been easier then…_

Memories form, brief and fleeting.

_The whip cracks…_

_ Screams, shouts, confusion…_

_ The rocks fall…_

_ I run…_

Hakoda's gravelly voice snaps me out of it.

"So, Zuko, why? Why did you do it?"

I open my eyes, look around. The tent is dead silent. All I can hear is the lapping of the waves outside and the soft burning of tobacco in the pipes. All eyes are on me, and every one seems to be holding their breath. _Is there a right answer?_ I can't help but wonder. My life has been nothing but a succession of wrong answers, wrong steps, wrong decisions.

_Well, I opened this door, took this path, looking for some damn answers. Time to find one._

"Because it was the right thing to do. Because I was tired of being on the wrong side."

The breath goes out of the room. Hakoda nods, smiles. I watch the smile ripple through his men. A pipe is passed into my hand, and a bottle of something that smells just utterly vile. I puff the pipe, take a pull of the bottle. It tastes exactly as vile as it smells, but I swallow without gagging. Men beat me on my back, grinning, laughing. Toph asks for a taste of the bottle, eliciting raucous cheers. Sokka grins madly as he smacks my back and calls me _buddy_. I look for Katara. I smile. She smiles back.

_Well, there's __**one**__ answer, at least._

* * *

Hey, look, it's Hakoda! And plot! And shit starting to happen!

I was actually thinking about working this chapter into the next one, but then I decided, _Fuck it, I really like this bit_. I just like the way the siblings interact with their father, and Hakoda's reaction. He's not being a dick of an over-protective father, he's just super fucking confused, and it's easy to see how his brain starts making some very strange leaps of deduction. I really dislike how it's a fanfic trope to just write Hakoda as this stereotypical sitcom dad, not least because it's because of the existence of those dads that I hate most sitcoms.

Point being, it's a nice, light moment in the narrative. Plus, a major theme of this story is that Zuko is out for answers. Every time he finds one, it's worth mentioning. And it wasn't like the gathering army was just going to let this random-ass firebender wander around the camp anyways, you know?

That's all. In the next chapter, we discuss strategy, an army gathers, we glimpse some old friends, and prepare for a leap across a continent. Woo!


	11. Chapter 11

11. IF, BEFORE, I WAS TRAITOR MORE IN THEORY THAN IN PRACTICE, OVER THE NEXT WEEK, THE DISTINCTION IS RIPPED AWAY. I tell the leaders everything, everything I know. I sketch out defenses, troop dispositions. I make a list of the most likely locations for a Fire Lord to wait out something like a solar eclipse. I describe the Royal Guard, make clear how formidable they will be, with or without bending. My intelligence is old, sure, and a bit stale, but as Hakoda explains when I clarify this, it's better than nothing.

_Better than nothing…_

I'm not exactly sure how to feel about those words. Somehow, deep down, I was hoping to mean a little bit more.

All through this, I try to talk them out of the plan. I field every argument, use every trick a Royal education has taught me. I lay out facts, figures. I argue strategy, tactics. Katara helps me. At night, when we sneak away for a smoke, we make a game plan for the next day, get some sleep, wake up, try again. Neither of us expects to succeed. Indeed, neither of us is even sure we _want_ to succeed. We just have to _try._

Katara, as usual, says it best, on a clear cool night out beyond the edge of the camp. We have to sneak far to smoke; her father would definitely _not approve_. The camp is spread over the beach and stretches into the low rolling hills beyond. There, on a random hill, looking out over it, she turns to me and says:

"I just want to make sure everyone knows what this really is. _I _know it's an insane gamble, but I won't be able to forgive myself if the others don't know it, too."

I just nod at that. What else can I do?

Aang doesn't help at all. If he was awake, moving around, functioning, _anything_, he could add his voice to ours. We could hold him up as an alternative plan, _a different path_, so to speak. Every new arrival goes straight to the tent where we've laid him out. They arrive, each one, with eyes full of fear, doubt, confusion. They've come to hear a crazy plan., and they hope that, somehow, the Avatar will give them a better one. They never say anything, just go in, stare, look down at the sleeping boy, see his chest moving, his eyes closed, his head gradually disappearing under a growing carpet of thick dark hair, his jaw lined with light peach fuzz. They stare, silent, turn on their heels, leave. When they re-enter the world from that realm of shadows, the confusion is gone. Their faces are set, their eyes alight with a cold fire. They become converts to the plan in that moment, there in the transition between darkness and light.

They become gamblers, betting their last copper in a game run by a man using loaded dice.

By the end of the week, over a thousand men have gathered. I'm introduced to a whirlwind of names and faces. There's Haru and his father Tyro, leading in a group of earthbending guerillas. There's the Mechanist, an inventor and engineer who puts Sokka to work helping him build boats and tools and weapons. Katara asks after his son, a young man named Teo, but he has apparently been left behind to, as the Mechanist puts it, _watch the fort_. The Mechanist looks grim when he says this, and we feel grim. Apparently, Katara and I aren't the only ones who feel as if we're living and breathing beneath a sharpened sword.

All through the week, they pour in, Earth Kingdom soldiers, peasant guerillas, Water Tribe warriors, even a few renegade Air Nomads, survivors of a scattered race. These in particular catch my attention. I'd heard the rumors, of course, that the Air Nomads survived, scattered, wandering, but alive. Only at the Western Air Temple had Sozin's attempted genocide been close to true success. Elsewhere, the Air Nomads scattered to the winds, often hiding in plain sight. Until that week, though, they were but rumors to me. Now, they stood before me in reality, many having dug out their traditional robes for this last, final throw of the dice. There weren't many, but they were there, and I couldn't bear to look at them, to meet their eyes.

_There was too much __**shame**__…_

_ There was too much __**guilt**__…_

All that week, I watched, never fully comprehending. I explained it to Toph one day, described it as a sensation like that of watching a play. I was invested, but not really _there_, just…_watching_, watching myself move through this world of grey and shadows. Toph nodded very slowly. We were perched on a rock, watching a new group stroll in. Sokka was always busy with the Mechanist, or with his father, so the rest of us took turns sitting with Aang. That morning was Katara's turn, so Toph and I sat on that rock, as was our wont, smoking and watching (or, in Toph's case, being told) the show.

"I know exactly what you mean, Sparky," she said. "You know something weird?"

"Besides you?"

She laughed. "Good one. But really, I always hate being blind, at times like these, at least, I normally do. The worst part of being blind is never really being sure what people look like. I mean, take you for instance."

"Do we have to?"

"Hush. Anyways, with you, people keep saying that you have this crazy scar on your face, but I have no idea what that actually _means_. Sokka can never remember what side it's on, and then there's the way you and Katara talk about it. Listening to _you_, one would think that it was vast and hideous, that you barely have a face to see outside of it. Listening to Katara, on the other hand, and one would think it's no big deal, barely noticeable."

I look at her. "_No big deal?_"

She waves the question away. "That's beside the point. Thing is, this kind of shit normally bugs the holy hell out of me."

I nod, taking that in. For a moment, I think about grappling with the fact that Katara apparently thinks my scar is nothing to even worry about, but push the thought away. "I can see how it would. But you keep saying _normally_."

Her face falls. I was surprised at that. I'd never seen her like that, down, out, _sad_. I never doubt that she gets that way; for all of her prickly coolness, she's still a human being, and a fifteen-year-old girl at that. Still…she never _shows _it.

_She's showing it now…_

"I just don't want to know right now. I don't want to see their faces, think about what they look like, wonder about their eyes. It's just too…too…_too sad to think about._"

I nod, reach over and throw a friendly arm over her shoulders. "Yeah, I know. I get it, I really do." The mood gets too much, even for me. I just can't tolerate a glum Toph. No teenager should ever had to look like that. I pull back my arm, elbow her. "But at least there's a couple of boys your age to mess around with."

I wait for the reaction I want, and get is as she heaves a great huff. "Yeah, _boys_. Whoopee." There's a pause. I count in my head. _Three…two…one…_

"Wait! Umm…I mean…umm…uhh…"

I laugh, ruffle her hair. "Chill, kid, I'm just messing with you. You don't have to pretend with me."

A pause, then, "Wait…you know…?" Her eyes are wide as saucers, her face confused.

I shrug. "Sure. I mean, think about it: Locking you away on the estate seems extreme for a daughter who's just being uncooperative. Why not marry you off, make you someone else's problem?"

She calms as my casual tone penetrates to her brain. She nods, shrugs, sighs. "Well…there was that _other_ problem…why don't you care?"

I laugh. "Well, for one thing, it hardly seems like the time to get hung up on shit like that. For another, well…remember, I grew up in a repressive dictatorship, and the great thing about repressive dictatorships is that they typically don't care _who_ you go to bed with, so long as you shout _Agni bless Ozai_ when you wake up." I smile, let the smile flow into my voice, so she can hear. "And besides, we're a passionate people. It's kind of our defining characteristic, and it tends to carry over into our love lives."

She mulls that over. She's much more relaxed now, much more calm. Indeed, I'm not sure I've _ever_ see her so…well…_chill_. "Makes sense." She ponders, says, "So, you could hook up with whoever you wanted back home?"

"Sadly, no. No matter the society, the rules are different for royalty."

"True…" A mischievous flint enters her eyes. "But, hey! You can hook up with whoever you want now!"

I concede the point. "I suppose that's one way of looking at it."

She giggles. _The shit?_ She rounds on me, her face bearing what I swear before all the gods and the spirits is a knowing _leer_. "_I_ know who you'd like to hook up with!"

I sense the bait, refuse to take it. "Well, you know, Appa _is_ looking mighty fine these days…"

She huffs. "You know, Sparky? You're not _nearly_ as fun to mess with as Sokka." Then, as if to punctuate her point, she leaped off the rock, stomped her foot, swept her leg sideways, and sent the rock zooming out from under me. I squawk like a chicken as I fall to the ground, flailing my arms all the way down. She can't see, but she still manages to have a good laugh, which I cut short by forcing her to duck a low heat fire ball. We have a short bending match right then and there, until Katara storms out of the tent and stomps over, berating us for being _stupid_. I get the worst of it since, as Katara points out, _you should know better!_ Toph and I are utterly chastened, so chastened, in fact, that we are completely caught off guard when Katara drops two giant water balls on our heads. We shout and curse, which only causes Katara to smirk and practically skip away, humming to herself.

Toph's not wrong, of course, about what she was trying to goad me into admitting. No reason to let the girl have her fun the easy way, though.

After all, here at the end of the world, why shouldn't the rest of us get to enjoy ourselves from time to time, too?

* * *

So, lots of fun in here! Real quick, btw: I meant what I said, a few chapters back, if you have fan art inspired by me. Please, share it with me! I'll throw that in ever few chapters or so...

First off, the bit about Toph. I'm taking a risk here, in that I'm trusting my readers to, well, _trust me_. The truth is that Toph always read as gay to me. This primarily stems from just how she feels to me, but also how her parents were so hardcore about _taming_ her. In a society like that, at the level of the Bei Fongs, the usual solution to a troublesome child is to marry them off and make them someone else's problem. In order for them to not do this, there would've had to have been something else that they were trying to _solve_, so to speak. Thus, my interpretation. Of all of my story changes, this is the one that made me the most nervous. It says a lot about American society that it gave me such pause. But, like I said, I'm trusting you guys to trust me, here. But most of all, I'm trusting you guys.

Next, the presence of the Air Nomads. If you haven't picked up on it yet, I'm kind of a History guy. In fact, I'm a trained and certified History _teacher_. I majored in History, and History has always been my thing. A lot of the shit I draw on to paint my canvas here comes from trying to square this show with what I know about how these types of situations typically work out. For example, if you know much about the war between Japan and China during the 1930's and 1940's, then you'll get what I drew on to paint the picture that Li Shang draws for the Gaang in Chapter 8. Here, for the Air Nomads, I draw on a class I took in college, which was about genocide in History (morbid, I know, but one of the best classes I ever took). Point is, genocides are _messy_. A group of people has yet to be completely obliterated in the course of human History. Even the Nazis weren't able to kill all the people they wanted to, and if anyone ever had a chance, it was them. No matter how complete Sozin's genocide was, there still would've been thousands, if not _tens of thousands_, of Air Nomad survivors. Over a hundred years, they have become scattered, diluted. Many cultural traditions have been abandoned or lost. But the thing is, they're still there, and in my mind, they're still fighting, many no doubt having abandoned their culture's pacifist ways. Think of the Jews during and after World War Two, if you want a historical analogue.

So yeah, that was an insanely long note. All I can say is that I hope you're still with me, still following me, still liking my story. I'll keep telling it, but it means the world to me that so many of you are coming along. Let's go!


	12. Chapter 12

12. ON THE SEVENTH DAY, WE GET OUR MARCHING ORDERS. The only way the invasion has _any_ chance of success is if it gets a hold of some fresh intelligence. In this, I'm their biggest asset. A prospective Fire Lord's education is mind-bogglingly comprehensive, which, even with my four years in exile, gives me an excellent chance of knowing how best to sneak into my homeland. That, in essence, is our mission. We are to find a way to slip into the Fire Nation, preferably within a month, and before the solar eclipse, find out where my father will be during it. Then, we are to somehow get this information to the invasion force, which, being larger, will be sailing around to the south, as fast as they can, but not nearly as fast as we will be able to move. If we can't get word out, we are to proceed to a rendezvous point, wait there, and give it to the army when it arrives.

And that's it. It takes Hakoda all of twenty minutes or so to explain it to us. The gang is to remain intact, with Katara, Toph, Sokka, and I taking flight to wherever I think it's best to start our journey. Aang, in his condition, can't be left behind, and he can't stay with the army, so he'll have to go with us. This is also insurance; if he wakes up, then there's a fall back plan if the army gets intercepted.

Hakoda lets silence fall after he says this. A beat, hard and heavy, during which no one moves, breathes, so much as _blinks_. Then, he continues.

Our final, and new, companion is introduced to us towards the end of this speech. Hakoda gestures towards a small, bony man with a shaved head and threadbare Air Nomad robes. The man's name is Lobsang, and it will be his task to fly Appa away when we start our journey into the Fire Nation. The simple truth is that we can't ride an air bison around a hostile countryside and home to remain hidden; thus, whenever we no longer have need of Appa, the man Lobsang will take him to a safe place, preferably the Western Air Temple, and wait for word. At this detail, both Katara and I breathe a sigh of relief. We had been wracking our brains, trying to figure out what to do about Appa, and this takes a load off our backs.

Since this is, with the exception of the bit about Lobsang, the plan Katara and I had suggested to Hakoda the day before, we're well satisfied. Confidant? Well, not really, but at least we can rest secure in that we'll be following a plan we've given great thought to. When Hakoda is finished speaking, Toph, Katara, and I bow deeply and accept the charge. Hakoda, in turn, bows to each of us in turn, his eyes lingering on Katara. He had wanted to send her home, send her away, but she had put her foot down and made very clear what she thought of _that_. The fight had been long and epic, heard all through the camp, but in the end, her father had conceded. Now, though, he looked as if he wished he had held firm. His face is stone, of course, the perfect picture of a battle-hardened chief, a warrior, _a general_. But his eyes are soft and glassy, and he doesn't let his gaze linger on his daughter for very long. Our mission thus accepted, we stand, bow again, and walk calmly out of the tent.

Only one person is missing. As soon as we step out into the light, Katara races off to find him, Toph and I keeping pace as best we can.

We find him down at the shoreline, throwing rocks out into the sea. All it takes is one look to see that he was angry, frustrated, _furious._ He doesn't just throw rocks, he _hurls them_. I read the signs and hold back, throwing out an arm to stop Toph before she can barrel past me. Katara, however, marches on, stomping right up to her brother. She shouts his name, once, twice, and then, without further preamble, reaches out and spins him around to face her. His face is not pretty to see, and he downright _snarls_ as he says, "_What?!_"

If Katara is fazed, she doesn't show it. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing? Where were you back there? _What the hell is wrong with you?!_"

He glares down at her, growls out the words, "Nothing _you'd_ understand, _Katara._"

She rocks back, stunned. "Excuse me? And just what the fuck does _that_ mean?"

He pulls himself up to his full height, doing his best impression of his father. It's not at all ridiculous, either. During the past week, he has gotten fresh Water Tribe clothes from the other warriors, and has managed to put his warrior's braid back together. He actually, I have to admit, looks downright impressive.

_Not that Katara is having any of it._

"I don't have to explain myself to _you_," he snarls.

It's at this point that it fully dawns on me what I'm watching, what I'm about to be witness to. Images flash through my mind, of the terrible, awful battles I use to have with Azula. Few things in life can quite compare to siblings having a fight, even ones as close as Sokka and Katara. Feeling uncomfortable, I turn to Toph, say, "We should probably go…"

Toph nods, starts to turn. "Yeah, I think you're on to something there, Sparky…"

We don't get the chance. We're turning to leave when Katara rounds on us, shouts, "No, stay put. You deserve to hear this, the both of you."

This sets Sokka off all over again. "Yeah, just invite him into _everything_, why don't you?"

The look that Katara hurls at her brother is one that I pray is never hurled at me. "_Say that again._"

"You fucking heard me! _Zuko this, Zuko that! Zuko's so smart, Zuko's so awesome!_ Why not just crawl into bed with him already and _make it fucking official!_"

The next sound we hear is a loud, painful_ smack_, as Katara slaps her brother, right across the face, hard enough to rock him back a few inches.

"Gods, that hurt even _me_…" Toph mutters.

"Tell me about it," I reply, just as softly. I'm not really there, though. The fight has completely captured my attention. I'm a little ashamed of this; it's really downright puerile. What are we, a crowd of peasants at a mime? I can't help it, though; suddenly, I'm hanging on Katara's every word.

What she says next is …" Toph mutters.

"Tell me about it," I reply, just as softly. I'm not really there, though. The fight has completely captured my attention. I'm a little ashamed of this; it's really downright puerile. What are we, a crowd of peasants at a mime? I can't help it, though; suddenly, I'm hanging on Katara's every word.

What she says next is _not_ what I was expecting.

"One," she says, sticking out a finger and jabbing it hard into Sokka's chest, "what Zuko and I may or may not be up to is none of your gods-damn business. Two," another finger, another jab, "what we may or may not be up to in the near future is none of your gods-damn business. And three," a final finger, a final jab, harder than all the preceding ones, "don't you _dare_ try to pretend that this little _temper tantrum_ of yours is about Zuko, because we both damn well know it's _not_."

She retracts her fingers, and Sokka moves from rubbing his face to rubbing his chest. Silence falls, broken only by the ebb and flow of the waves. At some Toph seems on the verge of making some sort of _Toph-like comment_, but I clap a hand over her mouth and tell her to save it. In a rather out-of-character moment, she obeys without argument.

The thing is, I get it, I really do, though I'm not sure Toph does. As a teenager, it's easy for her to forget that even big kids like us are victim to the same insecurities that she is. For a whole year, Sokka had been the _manly man_, so to speak, of the group, the fighter, the warrior, the lover, _the killer_. Sure, he had always been a bit of a clown, but, when push came to shove, he was the one defending the quest with the blade of a sword. Now that I was there, his perceived supremacy was gone, or, at the very least, shared, which can be much worse in the right circumstances, and he could be excused for feeling superfluous and abandoned.

But, the truth that both Katara and I knew was that even _that_ wasn't the real problem.

He looks down at his feet. His bluster and his bravado is gone, his shoulders slumped, his hands hanging limply at his sides. When he speaks, his voice is soft and low. With a shock, I realize that this is the first time I've ever really heard him talk in anything but a friendly shout.

"I just don't want to leave Dad…"

Katara sighs, reaches out, lays a hand on his shoulder. "I know, Sokka, I know, but we need you."

He scoffs. "No, you don't. Zuko can do anything I can do, and probably better."

"That's not true." The words are out of my mouth before I even have the chance to realize I'm going to say them. My mind moves without my even being aware of it. I just can't take it. My whole life, I've shit on myself, to the point where I have the self-esteem of a particularly ugly pebble. I'm ugly, useless, worthless, good for nothing…these thoughts have been my meat and my mead and my daily bread. I'm sick and tired of thinking that way; I hate how it makes me feel, the things those thoughts once drove me to do. I'll be _damned_ if I'm going to stand here and let my _friend_ do to himself what I've been doing to me my whole fucking _life_.

"Come again?" Sokka asks, blinking in surprise, almost as if he just now really noticed me.

"You heard me, _buddy_," I say, stepping into the siblings' little circle, Toph following close behind. "I mean, look at me. For all my learning and education and life of privilege, there's a whole _host_ of shit you can do that I can't. You can hunt, you can fish, you can fashion shit out of other shit. Give me a sword, and your ass is mine. Ask me to figure out how to _make_ a sword first, however, and, well…let's just say that my money's on you."

"And let's not forget," Toph throws in, "that your unique brand of stupidity is, more often than not, actually extraordinarily well-disguised genius."

"Aww, thanks, Toph," Sokka says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Don't mention it," she says, smiling.

"I won't."

"And even discounting all of that," I continue, moving to his side and pulling him into my best approximation of a _manly side hug_, which makes me feel _exactly _as awkward as one would guess, "you promised to help me kick Aang's ass when he finally wakes up. You really going to leave me in the lurch on that?"

He smiles, throws a light arm across my shoulders to balance us out. "Heh…yeah…I'll admit, I _was_ looking forward to that…"

"So, you see," Katara finishes, speaking for us all, "we _do _need you. So, really, you _have_ to come with us, and willingly, too, because that'll save me the trouble of knocking you out and tossing you on Appa in the morning."

"Well," he says, almost his normal self again, "it's a good think I'll be there, then." He raises a finger. "But I'm still not changing Aang's loincloth."

"And you won't have to. After all," she says, throwing me a wink, "that's what Zuko's for."

We laugh at that, there on the edge of a continent. We throw our arms around each other and tilt our heads into the center of the ring and laugh, challenging the roar of the sea.

* * *

Well, folks, it looks like it's about time for the Gaang to head off. We are officially on the road to the Day of the Black Sun, which will serve as this story's first climax (of at least three!). Things are going to get a bit darker, a bit hairier, a bit bloodier. The slow moments won't be as common, but they'll be there, if only to give us a break.

There's not much to say about this chapter, because, like many of the others, it speaks for itself. I just really like the image of the Gaang, there on the shore, arms around each other, defying the world. One of the great things about the show was their sense of camaraderie, their air of, _It's us against the fucking world_. I really wanted to capture that image here, that sensation of togetherness. I hope I did a good job.


	13. Chapter 13

13. WE'RE PACKED AND READY TO GO, ONLY AN HOUR OR SO BEFORE TAKE-OFF, WHEN KATARA AND I SNEAK OFF FOR A FINAL SMOKE. We walk all the way out of camp, past the pickets and the watch posts, past the torches and the flames. The night is pitch black, the stars hidden behind a solid carpet of clouds. The night is warm and soft and alive with the sounds of a thousand-thousand insects, and a light breeze ruffles its way through the grass.

We sit down on a hill, our backs to the camp. We kick off our shoes, wiggle our toes in the grass. I pull out the cigarettes, light them, and we smoke. We sit very close to each other, not talking, not yet. Beside me, she reaches back, unties her hair, lets it flow in the breeze. I watch, entranced. It's very beautiful, her hair. It needs a trim and a good, solid brush, but it's still beautiful to me.

She catches me watching, winks, giggles. I chuckle, turn away before my attempt at a cool façade can crack.

We've started a second set of cigarettes before we start talking.

"So…who was your first?" That's her.

"First what…?" That's me.

"Girlfriend."

"Well…define _girlfriend._"

"Someone you hung out with, cuddled with, whispered sweet nothings in their ear…you know, stuff like that."

"Don't I do that with you?"

"I'm still waiting on the sweet nothings."

"I'll make a note to work it in. But, in answer to your question…well…to be honest, there's only on candidate: A girl named Jin, in Ba Sing Se."

"Really? I'm surprised, Mr. _Heir to the Throne_."

"Heh…Crown Princes don't really get to _date_, Katara."

"Fair enough. So, tell me about Jin."

"Well…she was this girl, about my age, refugee down in the Lower Circle, like us. She and her mother used to come to our tea shop, after my uncle and I opened it. After a while, she'd come in alone, as often as not. She'd always talk to me, always smile at me, always laugh at my jokes, no matter how lame. She'd stay for hours, sipping an empty cup of tea. After a couple of weeks, my uncle made me ask her out. I did, and we started…well…seeing each other."

"Hmm…cute. For how long?"

"About three months. I…I actually had a date with her, oddly enough, to go see a play, the night Ba Sing Se fell and we escaped."

"So, you stood the poor girl up!"

"Yeah…which is unfortunate, really. She was a nice girl. I hope she's okay."

"Did you like her?"

"Obviously."

"Did you _loooove_ her?"

"Eh…no, not really. I mean, maybe in time, who knows what the future might have had in store, you know? But, in the time I had…no, I didn't."

"Fair enough. Did you _do the deed?_"

"Perv! And, if you must know, yes, we did."

"Fast mover!"

"One, vast slums of refugees in the middle of a war tend to make for an environment conducive to skipping a few steps. Two, you're one to talk!"

"_Excuse me?_"

"You heard me! And before you try to deny, just know this piece of advice: You should really teach your brother to handle his booze. Man's as gossipy as an old lady half a bottle in."

"You're telling me! One time, he got a hold of a bottle of…something or other, in Ba Sing Se, and I learned far more about him and Suki than I _ever_ wanted to know."

"Suki…Kyoshi Warrior girl, right?"

"That's the one."

"Man…_another_ person I gotta apologize to, before this is all over."

"Oh, hush. So, back to the topic at hand, I'm guessing that he told you all about _Jet._"

"He did, he did, or at least what he knew, as well as everything he has a theory on."

"Sokka and his fucking theories…"

"Right? So, anyways, Jet, what was the deal with all that?"

"Nothing deep or complex. Guy was handsome, charming, charismatic…and, well, I was lonely, impressionable, and, to be perfectly honest, really, really horny."

"Perfect recipe for making terrible decisions."

"_Exactly_. Real bad move on my part, too. Regretted it almost instantly."

"You know, speaking of Jet, I actually ran into the guy."

"No shit?"

"Handsome, charismatic dude with a gang of hangers-on whose ages and devotion make the whole set-up vaguely creepy?"

"Yup, that's him."

"Well, then yeah, I ran into him, when my uncle and I were laying low in Ba Sing Se. He was bound and determined to prove that my uncle and I were Fire Nation. He seemed deeply offended that no one seemed to give a shit."

"Did anyone believe him?"

"I'm sure they did. I mean, one look was all one needed for either of us. Thing is, the Lower Circle was a real hodge-podge of humanity, and we weren't the only Fire Nation citizens squatting there. Lots of draft dodgers, deserters, colonists who'd committed some crime…I'm saying, my people were around. Thus, once it was clear that my uncle and I were pretty harmless, most people ignored both us and Jet. Didn't stop him from harassing us, though. He had a pretty big mad-on for me in particular."

"Oh? Why?"

"Well, for one thing, I think he was mad that Jin, who had never given him the time of day, was into me. And for another…well…I _might_ have kicked his ass once…"

"No! You and your tempter, Zuko."

"What? Dude called my mother a whore."

"He would."

We were on our third round of smokes by then. Time dragged on, slow and steady, the seconds ticked off by the wind in the trees. Katara scotched over until she was right beside me, laid her head into my shoulder. I reached around, wrapped my arm around her. We sat like that until the cigarettes were gone.

"Zuko?"

"Hmm?"

"Any chance we can just…I dunno…_stay here?_ Like this? Blow off this whole _trying to save the world _thing?"

"Well, you know, we totally _can_…"

"But we _shouldn't_…"

"That's always the issue, isn't it?"

On the walk back, she slid an arm around me, kept her head on my shoulder, and, for a few more minutes, the world didn't seem quite so dark.

* * *

_Hey, kangaroo2010_, you might be asking, _what was the point of that chapter?_ And to you, faithful reader, I simply remind you how I've said, more than once, that I'm writing this story to have fun. I love dialogue chapters, I love building and exploring human relationships, and I _really_ enjoy showing that one can write romantic shit without getting all angsty. I'm a big believer in taking the time to develop the relationships you write, and this is how I do it, because it would've been awkward to shoehorn this in later in the story. Plus, I've always had an issue with every fanfic making it so that Katara has to be a virgin. To that, I say, _Why?_ Then, to further make my point, I say this chapter.

Also, I love dialogue chapters. It's relaxing to just kind of blow off writing _he said_ and _she said_ over and over again. So, sometimes, I sit two characters down and they have a moment.

In the next chapter, we roar off into the night, and in the chapter after that, some fuckers get a sword to the stomach. Woo!


	14. Chapter 14

14. WE LEFT AT MIDNIGHT. Our send-off was quiet and informal, the camp watching us fly away in silence. Hakoda was the picture of _The Chief_, strong and calm. He embraced his children, and they embraced him back. All three were moved, but no tears were shed, even when Hakoda told them, a quiver in his voice, how very proud he was of them. For Toph there was a kind hair ruffle, and for me, a bow and a clasping of hands. He pulled me in close, whispered in my ear, "_Bring them back to me, young man._"

"_Yes, sir_," I said, my voice thick in my throat. He looked at me for a few more moments before he spoke again.

"You're a far better man than you give yourself credit for, far better than you have any right to be. Your father's not _half_ the man you are. Never forget that."

I can't begin to say how much that meant to me, _still_ means to me.

Our last sight of the camp was a thousand torches (or so it seemed) flickering in the night, as every man there bowed to the ground as we flew away.

We traveled by night, fast and low. Lobsang was a quiet man, but kind, and had forgotten about air bison than any of us – even Aang, I'll wager – will ever know. We avoided human contact, sticking to the deserted stretches of the countryside. Rivers flowed like strings of pearls beneath us, and endless fields of sighing grass stretched out into the horizon. Vast forests swayed in the wind, and villages twinkled to life beneath us and, just as quickly, vanished from sight.

We made good time, three nights on and one night off. We swung to the north, followed a great shallow arc around Ba Sing Se, then dipped to the south and west. As soon as the sun would begin to rise, we'd set down in an empty place, pitch camp, sleep and rest through most of the day. In the evening, we'd wake, eat, let Sokka sneak off to kill something for Katara and I to cook. Lobsang, to our surprise, partook in this carnivorous diet. It was true, he admitted, that Air Nomads prefer to be vegetarian, but, he pointed out, not all principles are equally important in times like ours.

Toph and Lobsang seemed to find each other endlessly fascinating, and often talked all through the night. He had an impressive repertoire of dirty jokes and stories and songs, and Toph never tired of them. While they talked and Sokka hunted, Katara and I would take our walks, have our smokes, indulge in our talks. It was hard to hide that we were growing very close, and even Sokka began to join in the gibes and sniggers when we would return. Toph still took the lead, though, typically trotting out the latest ditty Lobsang had taught her when we got back to camp.

And through it all, the Avatar slept.

A week went by, and then another. We were in the far west of the Earth Kingdom now, and the signs of war were everywhere. Villages burned, bodies floated down rivers, and armies left their detritus and debris all over the land. There was war and rumor of war, and more than once we flew over columns of refugees staggering through the night. Not a day passed that we didn't see smoke curling into the sky somewhere in the distance, and the patrols from all sides became harder and harder to avoid.

We pressed on. There was no stopping, no turning back, no helping. A deep sense of foreboding settled down into our bones, and sleep became harder as the nights grew shorter and the days grew longer. Summer was here, and with it came the heat and the bugs. Once again, we grew haggard and dirty, and Sokka came back from the hunt empty-handed more and more. We dared not venture into wherever people were, and had to settle for foraging what we could as our supplies grew short. We were loathe to trust anyone, and besides, we doubted there was much food to be had, anyways.

Through it all, amazingly, we did not fight or argue. Tempers did not flare, and angry words did not fly. We were in this together, to the end, and no matter what, we had to stick it through. We never voiced our doubts, our fears, our confusions. We had said them often enough, and even with our silence, they were writ plain on our faces. When we talked, we talked of happy things, of Lobsang's dirty jokes and Sokka's ever-evolving fantasy of _Aang's Spirit World Feast_. When Katara and I walked, we spoke of pointless things, meaningless tidbits and useless information that we had gathered through our lives. As often as not, we said nothing, merely sat, my arm around her, her head on my shoulders, and watched the sun crawl through the sky.

And through the night, we flew, our progress marked by the stages of the moon.

* * *

A short one, but important. I'm painting a scene here, going for an atmosphere. I hope it's working. By the way, I get Lobsang's sense of humor from the one the Dalai Lama is reported to have. Apparently, that crazy old monk loves a solid dirty joke.

In the next chapter, people die. It's going to be interesting.


	15. Chapter 15

15. WE FINALLY RAN OUT OF LUCK AT NOON OF THE FIRST DAY OF THE THIRD WEEK. We were only a day or two from our destination. My plan, such as it was, was to go to where my uncle and I had last left my old crew, a cove where we often stopped to take on supplies and rest. If we were lucky, they would still be there, or at least nearby. Over three-and-a-half years, they had become fiercely loyal to me, and had come close to treason more than once on my behalf. The hope was that, not only would they still be near the cove, but that they would be willing to join our cause, or at least smuggle us into the Fire Nation. They might even have fresh information, which was more valuable than gold to us.

Toph sensed the patrol before any of us heard them. As usual, we had slept through the morning, though now we set a watch. That morning, it had been Sokka's turn, and he dozed while I did some maintenance on our weapons. Lobsang was tending to Appa, and Katara was tending to Aang, all while Toph lounged, tossing rocks at random trees. Suddenly, she stopped, dropped her current rock, and stood, digging her feet into the ground.

"_Hush!_"

We all stopped what we were doing and turned towards her. I reached over and shook Sokka awake, who grumbled until I put a finger to my lips and pointed to Toph. At that, his eyes went wide and he grew still. Nothing moves. Nothing breathes. The summer air is hot and humid and presses down heavy on our skins. There is no breeze; even the trees seem to be watching, waiting.

"Riders," Toph says.

"How many?" I ask.

A pause, then, "Hard to tell. At least a dozen, but coming this way for sure."

"What're they riding?"

A final pause, then, "Kimodo-rhinos."

_Shit_.

"Do we have time to run?" Katara asks.

Toph shakes her head. "No."

_Fuck_.

We break into a flurry of activity. We toss everything haphazardly into the saddle, tell Lobsang to take Appa and Aang and book it at the first sign of things going south. He nods, accepts this without comment. I take up my sword, loosen it in its scabbard. Sokka declines my uncle's sword, takes up the Water Tribe spear he took at the camp in place of the one he took beneath Ba Sing Se, slings his boomerang over his back, checks the dagger on his belt. Katara grabs the bigger of the two water skins, fill sit from the smaller one, puts it on, uncorks it. Toph rubs her hands together, hums a tune, clears her mind.

We're in a small clearing, a low groundswell between us and the coming riders. The trees press in close around us; there's basically enough room to land Appa and not much more. Sokka slips into those trees, moving to the right of the oncoming riders. Toph moves with him, letting him carry her for speed. Katara and I sit down on the swell, and wait. We're both dressed like grubby Earth Kingdom peasants, and, with luck, we can convince the patrol to head back to the road and leave us be.

Unless, of course, the patrol isn't a patrol. There's a good chance it's on its way somewhere, and we just happen to be sitting on the most direct route. They might even be looking for us, or renegades in general. If it's either of those two possibilities, we're in for a fight.

I light two cigarettes, pass one to Katara. We smoke in silence as the riders start to come into view. We stay seated, calm. Our only hope is to look as harmless as possible, so that's what we do. We smoke, we breathe. I lay my sword beneath me, the handle under my right hand. Katara sits to my left. The riders are approaching. Toph's guess was right; there are a dozen, riding three abreast. The front three have fire crests on their helms, marking them as benders. The other nine have lances and swords, and two have bows slung across their backs. They look tough and businesslike, but relaxed. They don't seem to think much of the two peasants smoking ahead of them.

_Good_.

The man in the middle of the front rank shouts a command, and they halt. The front three confer amongst themselves, dismount, start walking slowly forwards. Their poses are relaxed, their faces calm, their stride easy. The rest of the column begins stretching, cracking their necks, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Cigarettes are lit, smoke rises.

The man who shouted stops before me, looks down. He removes his helm, wipes sweat from his brow, crouches down to talk to me. He is very young, not much older than me. His features are lean and weathered, but smooth and youthful. His eyes show no fear, no suspicion.

"Good afternoon," he says, smiling thinly.

"Good afternoon, m'lord," I say, keeping my face impassive, guarded, respectful.

He laughs. "Oh, I'm no lord, just a junior officer, young man."

_Good_, I think. _Less likely to warrant a real search._

"Yes, m'lord," I say.

He chuckles, looks from me to Katara and back. "So, can you tell me what you two are doing here?"

"Just trying to stay out of trouble, m'lord." My voice is low, deferential, the peasant trying to disappear.

"Admirable goal. How's that working out so far?"

"I suppose that's up to you, now, m'lord."

He and his companions chuckle at that. The other two remove their helms, cradle them in the crooks of their arms. Behind them, the rest of the riders take that as a cue, remove their helms, lay lances across laps. They're calm. They're relaxed. They suspect nothing.

There's a ringing in my ears. My scar aches. I can feel every strand of hair brushing against my brow. The edges tickle my ears. The world is alive. I can feel everything. Sense everything. Smell everything. Time loses all meaning. It slips by, sliding along like a knife across rock. My uncle's words in my ears.

_In through your nose…_

_ Out through your mouth…_

_ Strike hard…_

_ Strike true…_

_ Don't hesitate…_

_ Fear is for after…_

_**Action is for now!**_

The officer is nodding. I wonder what his name is. His eyes narrow.

"Do I know you, son?"

I shake my head. If feels like it takes a long time.

"Unless you're the one who gave me this face, then no, m'lord, I don't think so."

He takes this in. The longer he's here, the more he takes in. I don't like that. He's smart. His eyes sparkle with intelligence. His mean sense nothing, but him?

_He smells a rat…_

"How _did_ you get that scar, anyways?"

I look him in the eye. "I didn't stay out of trouble, m'lord."

He nods. "Obviously." He looks over at Katara. "And what, pray tell, while we're on the subject of curious things, is a Water Tribe girl doing out here?"

Katara casts her eyes to the ground, mutters, "The world is a strange place these days, m'lord. All kinds of people in all kinds of places."

He mulls that over, turns back to me. "So, where you two headed, young man?"

"Nowhere in particular, m'lord."

"Good." He stands. "Then you won't mind coming with us. Sound good? Get you two some food, ask a few questions when we get back to our camp, nothing serious, really."

I nod, slow, deliberate. "Do I have a choice, m'lord?"

He answers with a smile.

I sigh, raise my left hand, as if I need help. He looks at it for a while, turns to his companions. They shrug. He reaches down, takes my hand. With my left hand, I allow him to pull me to my feet.

With the sword in my right hand, I run him through.

Things happen very fast. The bender to my right yells, ice shards through his chest and throat. Screams and shouts from the column. Walls of rock rip from the ground, cutting off their escape. A boomerang buries itself in the neck of one of the arches, while the other falls, pierced by a spear at the end of which is Sokka. The siblings begin a piercing cry, their tribal war song. The bender to my left begins a move, but doesn't get to finish. I free my left hand, burn him alive. He screams and he screams and he screams. Sokka is among the column, jabbing his spear point into the bellies of the kimodo-rhinos, knocking the riders to the ground with the blunt end. Rocks and boulders fly. Somewhere, Toph laughs like a madwoman. Katara and I are in the column. _Hack, slash, parry_. She shoots a spike of ice through a man's chest. _Slash, parry, hack._ Sokka knocks aside a lance, drives his spear point through a man's stomach. _Parry, hack, slash._ I open a man's throat, flying blood sparkling in the light. _Hack, slash, parry…_

Like that, it's over. Silence falls. Kimodo-rhinos writhe on the ground, or pound against Toph's walls, bellowing in terror. Red-coated bodies lay motionless on the ground. Here, a head. There, a hand. Here, an arm. There, a foot. The smell of blood hangs thick in the air. It fills my senses. The world seems tinged red. Everything is red. The trees, the ground, the dirt, the grass. Sokka has blood all over, splattered from head to toe. A spray has marred Katara's clothes, drops and streaks across her face. I look at my sword. It drips with scarlet. I lean down, wipe it on a corpse's clothes.

My heart beats madly in my chest. My head vibrates with each pulse. My hands shake. It's hard to breathe. Tears burn at the corners of my eyes. I close my eyes, will them away. There's a roar in my ears. I open my eyes. Everyone seems very far away. I watch, fascinated, as Toph methodically walks among the battlefield, crushing the heads of the last kimodo-rhinos with rocks. I nod, or, at least, I think I do. We can't let any escape. Not until we're far away. She steps into the midst of the bodies, stands, feet apart, fists on her waist.

"So, we won."

Sokka nods, runs a trembling hand along his scalp. He's breathing hard, and his voice is ragged, cracked, hoarse.

"Sure, let's call it that."

I look over at Katara. She looks back at me. We've somehow ended up very close to each other. A memory, an image, fighting almost back-to-back. _How could I forget that so fast?_ I shake my head. Battle does strange things to the mind.

"How're you doing?" I ask.

She brushes some hair from her face. "About as well as you."

"Heh…that bad, eh?"

She sighs. Tears shine in her eyes. "I'll never get used to this."

I make a face. "No one ever should."

Toph points, back to the ridge. "You guys missed on, just so you know."

Sokka looks up, while Katara and I turn. Toph is right.

We missed one.

* * *

Hey, remember how I said that this story was never going to forget that this was a war, and that when shit was going to get real, it was going to get _real?_ Yeah, well, I figured it was time to deliver on my promise. Plus, I've never actually written a battle scene like this before, or any kind of fighting scene, really. It was time I tried. I hope I did well. I tried to channel the things that combat veterans have told me. I hope I did justice to that experience.

A little bit about how I felt that my characters came to being able to do this. Katara goes out of her way to learn offensive waterbending in Book 1, and I think we're all fooling ourselves if we think she doesn't ever use it, especially at the Siege of the North. Sokka spent all the years his father was away defending their tribe and their village. He's definitely fought and killed before. And Zuko, especially in my story, spent three years chasing and fighting pirates. Boy knows how to fight, and he's definitely killed, too. Toph might not have killed anyone directly, but since she can't really _see_ what's going on, I have this idea that it'd all seem enormously unreal to her. Hence, the laughing.

So…yeah. Shit got real, guys. I hope you're still on this ride with me!


	16. Chapter 16

16. HIS NAME IS KIMURA. He is twenty-five-years-old. This is his first tour-of-duty. He is from the Homeland. He grew up in a little fishing village on the southern coast. There's a girl waiting for him back home. He wasn't supposed to be on this mission. The man who was got sick the morning of, and since Kimura was the only one without a task, he was tapped. He curses that man through gritted teeth, even though the man is his best friend.

He tells us all this in between gasps and groans. Tears slide down his cheeks, but he does not cry. He is in a great deal of pain. I had basically gutted him when I withdrew my sword. He doesn't blame me, though, he wants to make that clear. He gets it, it wasn't personal. He would've done the same.

"Besides," he says, spitting out blood, "you wouldn't have enjoyed the questioning. My commander is a bit of a mean bastard."

Katara and I exchange a glance. She shakes her head, stands, walks a few steps away. She sits down, beside her brother. The others, including Lobsang, sit in a row. Lobsang putts slowly on his pipe. Sokka passes a smoke to Katara, who lights it with a small flint their father gave them. They sit, and they wait.

I lower myself to the ground, pull out two cigarettes, light them, pass one to Kimura. He accepts it, holds it to his lips with a bloody hand, the other hand holding in his guts. He tries to smile, fails. "Thanks," he croaks.

"Don't mention it."

"I won't."

I look up at the sun, guess the time at nigh on one. We'll have to move soon, risk the trip in daylight. There's simply no choice. We can't linger here. Flies are starting to buzz around the bodies. The smell of charred meat wafts from the soldier I burned.

It's very hot.

I turn back to Kimura.

"Do you know who I am?"

He nods. "I had a suspicion, but I know for sure now." He grows paler with every breath.

"Who am I?"

"Prince Zuko."

I rub the back of my neck. My scar aches. I take a long, deep drag of my cigarette. "I'm not going to lie to you, Kimura. You're not going to leave this place alive."

He nods. "I know."

"Right. Thing is, you do, indeed, have a choice. You can answer some questions, and die quickly. Or, you can be stubborn, and we leave you here for however long you have left. I'll only ask the once."

He gives me a weak smile. "I'll talk."

"Good." I turn to Sokka. "Hey, toss me your dagger."

He pulls it out, makes to hand it over, but is stopped by Lobsang. He smiles, says, "Don't worry, when the time comes, I'll do it." He chuckles at our shocked expressions, says, "I have more experience with this than you might think. Pacifism in my people died a long century ago." We have nothing to say to this, so we turn back to Kimura.

"You know I'm Prince Zuko. What have you heard about me?"

"That you're dead, that you died at the Siege of the North. No one really believes that, though."

"What do they believe?"

"That you're either in a cell back home, or that you've gone over to the other side." He croaks out a bloody laugh. "I guess we answered _that_ one."

"Heh…how far out from base are you?"

"A day and a night. This was our second day."

"When are you expected back?"

"By the end of the week."

"What was your mission?"

"My commander's a bastard and a crook. There's a village not far from here, on the coast, near a cove where the opium smugglers land. We were to go there, provide security, and take the money for said service back to my commander." He shakes his head. "Hence why we weren't on the road."

I pause for a moment, take that in. The poppy has long been grown in the Fire Nation; the climate suits it. Since the war began, though, cultivation has exploded, especially in remote areas, mostly to make painkillers. Unfortunately, the poppy makes more things than morphine. Opium addiction is widespread amongst veterans back home, and it's almost epidemic among the coastal villages of the Earth Kingdom. The longer the war has ground on, the less the government has been able to fight it. Soldiers and administrators on _both_ sides are actively or passively involved. Kimura's story makes sense, and is a bit of a relief.

_They weren't looking for us…_

The other thing I think of is that I know the cove he speaks of well. It happens to be our destination. I suppress a smile. Even if my crew is no longer there, if any one might be willing to smuggle us into the Fire Nation, it would be a crew of opium smugglers.

I return my focus to Kimura.

"What's your commander's name?"

"Hojo Adachi. Why?"

I file it away. "No reason. Now, I have one more question, and then we're through. Alright?"

"Your show, m'lord."

"Have you heard anything about the Dragon of the West?"

He blinks. "General Iroh?"

I nod.

He closes his eyes, thinks. "Rumor has it that he attacked Princess Azula at Ba Sing Se. That's one of the reasons why so many people think you're still alive, that you've changed sides. Either that rumor is true, or he just finally ran his mouth one too many times. Point is, he's been taken back home in chains."

My heart skips a beat. I see his face, his smile, taste his tea on my tongue. The look in his eyes, the sparkling cavern echoing with the sounds of war. He grins.

_I've never been more proud of you…_

_ The rocks fall…_

I lean close. "So…he's alive?"

He sighs. Blood dribbles over his bottom lip.

"That, I don't know. No one seems to. I just know that he was in chains last anyone saw of him."

My heart flutters in my chest. Tears burn in my eyes. I will them away, stand, toss my cigarette away.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Kimura. Go with the gods."

He smiles. "And you, too, Prince Zuko."

I move over towards the group. Lobsang takes my place. He lays a hand on Kimura, whispers a prayer. Kimura thanks him, closes his eyes. A blade flashes, and it's done.

We fly.

* * *

A surprising number of people have pinged me, wanting to know where the hell Iroh is. Well, now you know: Rumor has it that he's alive and in chains, back in the Fire Nation. Remember that; trust me, it's going to matter, and fairly soon.

Someone's going to complain that Lobsang, an Air Nomad, kills Kimura. To which I say, hey, his people have been actively hunted down for a century. You think they're not going to start fighting back? Of course they are. They're human beings. And it's worth remembering that the one Air Nomad Avatar that Aang consults with in the final episode advises him to kill Ozai. So, it's probable that the pacifism thing was more an ideal than an ironclad rule.

If anyone's curious where I'm getting my names, I'm basically treating Air Nomads as Tibetans, Fire Nation as Japanese, and Earth Kingdom as Chinese. Thus, I pull up a list of names from those groups, and go with that. It works out surprisingly well.

In the next chapter, Zuko finds his old crew on a beach, and they ask him a hard question.


	17. Chapter 17

17. THE COVE IS EXACTLY AS I REMEMBER IT. The land climbs steadily right up to the shore, then dives almost straight down to the water. A thin, winding track weaves its way down to the beach, which is more a thin strip of yellow sparkling in the sun. The entrance to the cove is thin, barely wide enough for one ship at a time. During my wandering years, we came here often. It's a perfect place to stop, rest, repair. A small village rests a couple of hours' walk up the coast, full of fisherman who don't bother to ask questions. I think back to the last time I was here. I see my uncle and I, two small figures hauling a chest up that winding track. At the top, we stopped, knelt, cut our top knots, then moved on. It was a few days before we bothered to talk about it. Even then, there wasn't much to say.

My heart leaps at the memory. _He's alive._ I know it in my core to be true. _He's alive._ My spirit burns with purpose. _He. Is. __**Alive.**_

A few hours after the fight, we spot a random stream and land. Sokka, Katara, and I wash the blood from our bodies and our clothes. I look up at Katara. "He's alive."

She smiles. "Did you ever really doubt it?"

"I was afraid to hope."

"We all are."

"I'm going to save him."

She reaches out, takes my hand. "No, _we're_ going to save him."

Sokka comes over, throws an arm over my shoulders. "And you'd better believe we're not going to stop until he's free."

"Word," says Toph.

I'm pretty sure that _that's_ the moment I come to really love them all.

There's only one ship anchored in the cove. I recognize it instantly. Time has done nothing to improve its appearance. It's still old, still battered, still looks like it's held together with wishes and hope. I almost jump for joy when I see it. It's never looked so beautiful to me.

Lobsang brings us down for a beautiful landing. It's been a day since the fight. We've only slept in fits and starts, traveling all the while. We've very tired, but all break into exhausted grins when we see the ship. Sokka points, asks, "Is that our ride?"

I throw an arm around him. I'm starting to enjoy this whole _buddy_ business. "If Agni wills it, you bet."

"Well," he replies, grinning, "maybe we should pray to some of the other spirits, instead." He sticks a thumb into his chest. "I'll have you know that the Moon Spirit is a close, personal friend of mine."

"Then we'll pray to her, too." I don't say anything more. There's a brittleness behind his eyes that declares the subject closed.

A boat is already on its way as we come in for a landing. Appa has barely touched the ground before I've leapt to the ground, running out into the surf, waving my arms. A man stands in the prow of the boat, waving and laughing.

"Fujita!" I shout. "Is that really you, you hoary old son of a whore?!"

The laugh booms across the water. "If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: My mother was a bitch, not a whore! She never charged, you pampered pansy of a prince!"

By the time the boat lands, the others have joined me. Fujita leaps from the launch, jaunts up to me. We exchange bows before giving into a hearty embraces. Like I said before, class distinctions didn't matter much by the time I left that ship.

Fujita hasn't changed a bit. He's still a beast of a man, tall and barrel-chested with massive shoulders. His leathered skin is rippled with muscle, and a scar down the side of his face complements the score on his arms, which in turn compete with a myriad tapestry of tattoos. He is very much a sailor, at one with the sea, as foul-mouthed as he is loyal. He accepts my friends without demure, his only pause being to gape at Lobsang for a moment before laughing and embracing him, too. Finally, he turns back to me, grinning.

"So, little prince, what're your orders?"

I'll admit, I'm taken aback by his enthusiasm. "Don't you want to know what the story is, what I'm going to ask of you?"

He shrugs. "Something treasonous, I expect. Nothing new there."

"Doesn't that frighten you?" Katara asks, stealing my line. She does that often, I've noticed.

Fujita shrugs again; the man's shrugs are truly epic to behold. "Not as much as the idea of that cunt Ozai ruling the world." He spits to underling his point.

Toph, incredulous, asks, "Wait…so, you hate Ozai, too?"

Fujita laughs. "Of course! Half the damn country hates Ozai! You think this war has been easy on us? You think we want to send our fathers and brothers and sons off to die for another hundred gods-damn years?" He spits again. "_That's_ what I have to say to _that!_"

Katara, close by my side, looks past Fujita, to the men in the boat. "And what say you men?"

One man stands, comes to the shore. "My brother died in this war. I say, no more."

Another man. "Both of my sisters were widowed by this way. No more."

The third and final man. He wipes tears from his eyes. "My only son, the light of my life, died in this war, along with my father and two of my nephews. If it means an end, we stand with m'lord to that end."

"Can you promise an end?" Fujita asks, looking deep and hard into my eyes.

_Another question…_

_ Another answer…_

_ Only one to choose this time…_

"I can only promise to try."

The men break into grins. "That's good enough for us," Fujita says. "Now, there are only three conditions."

"Name them."

"One, we have to stay a day, to make our…er…_delivery_. We'll need the money to bribe our back home. Also, you'll need to make yourself scarce when the local soldiers come by for their cut."

"Well," Toph says, "I wouldn't really worry about _that_…"

"Oh?" Fujita asks, popping an eyebrow. "How so?"

I make a face. "We _might_ have run into them along the way…"

Fujita nods. "I take it that things didn't go well for them?"

I answer by shaking my head.

Fujita shrugs. "Well, I don't like it." He looks at me. "But I can see that you don't like it, either, which tells me all I need to know about whether or not I'm making the right decision here. Besides…well…let's face it. You can't commit treason without breaking some heads. None of us thought that this was going to be easy or bloodless, young prince."

A beat falls. Faces flash before my eyes. I look at the group, see it in their eyes, too. A name, unspoken, sounds out in my head.

_Kimura._

But Fujita is right. This was never going to be easy. It was never going to be bloodless.

_We are at war, and the only way to stop it is to win, whatever the cost._

I clear my throat with a cough. "And the other conditions?"

"Heh…the second is that _that_ animal, as beautiful and magnificent as it is, will have to go. There's no room on the ship, and there's no way you can do what you need to do with it around."

Lobsang leans forward, says, "Already taken care of , my friend."

Fujita smiles. "Excellent! Now, m'lord, you won't like the last condition, I'm afraid.

I sigh. I can already imagine it. No doubt it would be something ridiculous and absurd. Would I have to play the tsungi horn? Kiss Katara? Sing the hedgehog song in its entirety, potentially while trying to stand on my head? _Kiss Sokka?_ A thousand possibilities race through my head, and I agree to them all. I silently curse my uncle for three years of _morale-building exercises_, and paint a smile on my face. "Name it."

To my shock, the men have turned grave, even Fujita. He turns, motions to one of the men, who reaches down into the boat and tosses something to Fujita. Fujita turns it over in his hands, kneels before me, and hands it to me with great ceremony. I take it, turn it over in my hands. Katara gasps. Sokka stares. Toph looks annoyed. My scar begins to ache.

It's my old helm, only the crew has changed it, added a fiery crown of gold, wrought into the brow. My mouth goes dry. My heart crawls into my throat.

"Zuko," Katara whispers, moving very close, "does that mean what I think it means?"

I nod dumbly. I look at Fujita, only he's not there. I look down, see him and the crew, kneeling in the sand. "What's the meaning of this?" I ask, my voice thick in my throat.

When Fujita speaks, the hoary, ever-smiling old sailor is gone. His voice is hard and cold, filled with import. Every word falls out into the world like a rock down a well.

"The Avatar is the only one who can save the world, little prince, and that's all well and good. But the Fire Nation needs saving, too, and only _you_ can do that." He bows his head. "Take the crown. Take the throne. Fulfill your destiny. _Save your people._"

I don't know what to do, what to say. To say that I'm struck speechless would be a _massive _understatement. I turn to the others. Sokka is explaining the scene to Toph, whose eyes are wide and bewildered. Lobsang looks at me with new eyes, nods his head slowly up and down. Even Appa seems to have been stunned into silence.

I turn to the woman by my side. Pride sparkles in her eyes. She reaches out, rests her hands on the helm, caresses the crown with her fingers.

"Are you ready for this, Zuko?"

I scoff. "Gods, no. I never even really _wanted_ this."

She looks up at me, smiles. "Then you're perfect for it." She takes the helm from my hands, turns it over a few times. "If I may…?"

I nod dumbly, kneel before her. She slides the helm onto my head. It feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. My shoulders sage from the burden. I don't know if I can stand. I want to throw up. I want to run. I want to curl into a corner and cry for days.

_What have I done?_

A voice, whispered in my ear, so soft even I can barely hear it.

"_Never forget that I believe in you._"

Small hands help me stand. A beautiful woman takes my hand in hers, raises it, shouts.

"_All hail Fire Lord Zuko!_"

My crew, who are no longer my crew, who are now _my men_, press their heads to the sand, cry back. "_All hail Fire Lord Zuko!_" Sokka whoops with joy, Toph hollers the cry, Lobsang claps politely, even Appa seems to bellow the news.

And thus, I was crowned, for the first time, at least, on a beach, by a Water Tribe peasant, acclaimed by a group of men one small step from being pirates, while an air bison bellowed.

All the time, all I could see was an eighteen-year-old boy, screaming in terror and pain.

* * *

So, yeah, lots of shit going on here. First, a comment on the Fire Nation.

By the end of any war, especially a long one, most people really just want it to end. In World War Two, the Germans were so tired that most people's real war aim became to fight the Soviets just hard enough to surrender to the Western Allies. When the troops in the Ruhr Pocket got the order to fight to the death, they dropped their weapons and surrendered in droves. Hitler survived so many assassination plots that whole books have been written on the subject. In short, there comes a point where a people have had enough. In the Fire Nation, that point has been reached. Ozai is obviously a mad man, and keeps demanding ever greater sacrifice, and has even gone so far as to say he's going to hand things over to his blatantly crazy daughter. In such a situation, it's not a big stretch to imagine that the people would start remembering the young prince banished for the crime of basically caring too much about his people.

I also have to give a shout-out to the lovely emletish, from whom I stole the idea of _the hedgehog song_. If you haven't read the _Stalking Zuko_ series, you really should. It rocks.

I recently got a rather annoyed PM about the lack of Momo. I think I addressed this before, but it bears repeating. Basically, creatures like Momo only exist to sell toys. Which, of course, is fine, but it's a pain to write creatures like that into a story. Momo is one of those things that works great in a visual medium (ish), but falls short in a prose medium. In a visual medium, you can just draw Momo onto someone's shoulders and forget about it. In a prose medium, you have to pause the action once a page to write something like, _And Momo was chilling in a tree_. That gets tiresome, so I decided to write Momo out. If you're really attached to Momo, just imagine that he's always…I dunno…chilling on Sokka's head or something.

Also, did I mention that Iroh's alive? Woo! He's going to have a much more active role in the later part of the story, especially after the Day of the Black Sun. I hope you're willing to keep taking the ride with me!

In the next chapter, we set sail, and Aang wakes up.


	18. Chapter 18

18. WE'RE A WEEK AT SEA WHEN AANG FINALLY WAKES UP. There is no warning, no preamble, no sign, no indication. A week passes without incident, and then, suddenly, the Avatar is among us, as quickly as a snap of the fingers.

There's certainly nothing to indicate what is coming. Not long after my informal crowning, we load our things into the boat and say farewell to Appa. It's a painful parting for all involved. Toph and Katara both cry, and even I get teary-eyed. None of us holds a candle to Sokka, though, who throws his arms around the beast's head and sobs like a baby. We practically have to pull him off to get him to stop. Even then, he sniffles well into the next day.

Before he leaves, each one of us pulls Lobsang aside for an embrace and a warning. He imparts words of wisdom to us all, even though we mostly threaten him with a painful death should anything happen to Appa. He accepts this with his usual smile, and waves lightly as he goes. His plan is to head for the North, and from there fly to the Western Air Temple to wait for word. We all feel a little weepy as he goes, and Katara mentions how she hopes Appa enjoys the trip.

None of us share whatever Lobsang said to us in private, though I'll tell my words of wisdom here. He leaned close and said, with a glance at Katara, "Don't let that crown get in the way of your happiness, young man. Down that road lies a future too much like your past." I couldn't help but smile at that.

That night on the ship, we have one _hell_ of a party. The liquor flows, the music blares, and smoke hangs like fog in the air. Everyone dances with everyone else, even Sokka and I, who indulge in some sort of weird, stomping dance that simply defies any attempt to describe it. Everyone's favorite dances, though, are those between myself and Katara. No one seems capable of mentioning them without getting a twinkle in their eyes. Katara and I aren't entirely sure what the deal is. We were just having fun.

In the morning, all nurse massive hangovers and pleasant memories. We watch from the ship as the crew makes their deal ashore, and all apparently goes according to plan. Before we heave off, I address the entire crew. I mince no words, spare no details. I tell them that our mission is nothing short of treason. The penalty for failure will be death. The second the anchor is raised, the will be no turning back. At the end, I make an offer. Any man who wishes to go, may go, right now, no questions asked, with our blessings and his share of the ship's gold.

Not a man so much as hesitates. They all bow and cry, "_All hail Fire Lord Zuko!_" They make the call three times, then raise an almost hysterical cheer.

I say a silent prayer to my uncle, the bow deeply, my forehead to the ground.

We make one final stop before heading out into the open sea, at a small town on the tip of the western arm of the Earth Kingdom. The four of us stay on board while the crew stocks up on food, fresh water, coal for the engines. When they return, Fujita and I sit down and discuss what he was able to learn. Apparently, the situation has done nothing to settle down. The Earth Kingdom is reeling and shattered, but the Fire Nation seems to be as disorganized by victory as it would've been by defeat. The war shows no sign of abating; resistance has just become more fragmented. For every local baron who's come to terms, there're two more who vow to fight on. Desperate for manpower, my father has extended the draft to the colonies, causing riots and demonstrations, though not yet outright rebellion. Bandits and renegades roam the countryside, and desertion is epidemic among the Fire Nation armies. My name is being whispered everywhere. I'm not entire sure whether or not to believe this. It might be wishful thinking, or it might be the truth. I talk it over with Katara, and she is of the same two minds. There is a moment approaching, though, a delicate instant that will require luck and timing to grasp. All I can do is hope I'll have the brains and the ability to seize it.

Life on a ship is all about routines, and this voyage is no different. We all find niches. Toph becomes a big hit with the crew, almost a mascot, really. The crew can't seem to get enough of her. They find the blind girl who talks like a noblewoman and yet swears like a sailor to be endlessly fascinating. She sings dirty songs with them, and develops a taste for their horrid rum and rancid wine. More often than not, she's to be found riding around on some sailor's back, to raucous cheers and laughter. This is good, because it distracts her from how much she hates being on a ship. On land, her blindness is mediated by her senses, by what she can _see_ through her feet and her abilities. Off of land, though, she becomes truly blind. To keep it from getting to her, we all encourage her antics.

Sokka gets the closest to being a true member of the crew. The men of his tribe are trained to work the sea almost from birth. He fishes, he scrubs, he works. He teaches the crew how to improve their nets, and is cheered at the improvement in the catches. When he's not working or laughing with the crew, he's with me, on the bow, practicing swordsmanship. He's a natural, and we quickly move into advanced technique. I see a new side to Sokka in these sessions. Before he steps into the ring, he is his usual laughs and smiles and quips and borderline idiocy. The second we pick up our swords, all that falls away. He is calm, studious, receptive. He's not the only one learning, either. In the Fire Nation, the spear is a defensive weapon, not an offensive one. In the Water Tribes, it's both, and I learn as much from Sokka as he learns from me. Every day, it's an hour of each, sword, then spear. Our sessions are well attended, watched by anyone who's off-duty.

Katara's busy, too. She becomes more or less the ships nurse, healing and bandaging. We've set up shop in my old cabin, Aang laid out on my old bed, the rest of us scattered about the room. She does her healing there, and often goes to study with the regular ship's medic, from whom she starts to learn combat medicine. When Sokka and I fight, she always comes to watch. She says she's there to make sure we don't hurt each other, which I'm sure is true, but every member of my crew delights in teasing that she only really watches me. Toph tells me that the crew has begun toasting her as _our future Fire Lady_ when neither of us are around, which Toph finds hysterical and I find rather presumptuous.

_It's not a bad thought, though…_

We still take our walks, so to speak. Every night at sunset, we stroll to the very front edge of the ship, hang our feet off the edge, watch the sea glide by. We smoke and we talk, about our days, about ourselves. She often lays her head on my shoulder, and I often drape my arm around hers. It's really the only truly restful moments we get during the day. Especially for me.

My first order of business upon coming aboard was to make clear that my uncle and I had left Fujita in charge, and in charge he would remain. Despite that, he still insists on running every major decision by me. We consult every morning, discuss our course, the best places to land, the situation back home. We've decided to sail around the western arm of the Earth Kingdom and head south, make a run for the islands that jut from the Homeland towards the belly of the Earth Kingdom, hug these islands until we make landfall. Civilian ships and smugglers are common, while patrols are both rare and, when they are present, easily bribable. It'll also make it easy for the ship to race from there to the rendezvous point for the invasion.

The situation at home, from what Fujita tells me, is almost as chaotic as that in the Earth Kingdom. Dissension, it seems, is everywhere. A century of war has left the Fire Nation as exhausted as everyone else. Noble and peasant alike grumble. When my uncle was paraded in chains through Miyako, the capital, he was cheered, and more than one person called my name. Azula, who was supervising the spectacle, flew into a rage, and before she was done, at least a hundred people lay dead in the streets.

This upsets me greatly, as does all information about Azula. It makes me fear for my uncle, and it makes my heart hurt for her. The catacombs come back to me; I hear the unnatural _thrum_ at the edges of her voice. I fear that the sweet little girl I once knew is gone forever.

_One more crime to lay at my father's feet…_

It turns out that the crown was not offered to me on a whim. To my shock, this has been my uncle's project since I was first scarred and banished. He canvassed nobles and leading men, talked to generals and admirals, consulted with senior fire sages. It was some of these nobles who paid for my old helm to be altered, some of these leading men who tasked my crew to find me and crown me. It appears that I will not be without friends in my homeland, just as it appears that my father's throne is increasingly built upon shattered glass and shifting sands.

_There is hope…_

That's the refrain that echoes through my mind, that sparkles in Katara's eyes when I tell her all of this, late in the evening, watching the sun sink as the ocean spray tickles our feet.

_There is hope…_

_ We can do this…_

_**We can win…**_

At sunset of the final day of our first week, Katara and I sit on the prow, _cuddling_ for lack of a better word. Sokka is down with the crew; we can hear their singing from the deck. Fujita is pacing the ship, inspecting the watches. Toph is napping in the cabin. As she puts it, she's sound asleep, dreaming an amazingly relaxing dream that she refuses to expound upon, when a hand shakes her awake. Thinking it's one of us, she swats it away, telling the hand to go fuck itself. The voice that responds, perplexed and confused, snaps her awake instantly. We hear her comment on the situation, loud as day, all through this ship.

_**"Holy shit fuck GAH!"**_

The Avatar has returned.

* * *

So, there's a lot going on here, and I hope you made it through it. As much as we all wish every chapter was fun and cute, or at least crazy and violent, one has to slip one of these in. Hope you still enjoyed it!

And with that, Aang returns to life and returns to our world. Don't worry, though; I may be an obvious Zutaran, but I don't plan on _Ron the Death Eater-ing_ the poor guy.

That should about cover it. Hope you enjoyed it! I have to go cuddle with the girl now; no more updates until tomorrow!


	19. Chapter 19

19. TO SAY THAT AANG IS CONFUSED WOULD, ITHINK, BE AN UNDERSTATEMENT ON PAR WITH SAYING THAT MY UNCLE IS FOND OF TEA. Katara and I burst in first, followed closely by a slightly worse-for-wear Sokka. We find Aang seating on the bed, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. Toph is perched on the sofa, as far away from Aang as she can get. Fujita barrels in right behind Sokka, almost knocking all of us to the ground like dominoes, seeing as the three of us had, for some reason, decided to pile up by the door. Fujita, I think, speaks for us all when he mutters, "_Well, I'll be damned…_"

That seems to bring some life back into the proceedings. My brain, at least, begins to function. Katara's seems to follow quickly, as she turns to Fujita and very politely asks for a few moments. Fujita, still staring, nods, bows, and closes the door behind him.

We arrange ourselves on the floor. The past eight weeks have wrought a marked change on the Avatar. He's even thinner than he was before, with a head full of hair and a jaw covered in a straggly fifteen-year-old-version of a beard. He appears very calm, but his eyes give him away. He obviously has no idea what the hell is going on, and can't even _begin_ to fathom how he got here. None of us say anything for a rather long period of time. We all just kind of…_sit and stare_. Even Toph seems somewhat at a loss. Several times, one of us begins to open our mouths, take a breath, only to reconsider it and clamp our mouths shut again. I have no idea how long this bizarre impasse drags on.

Sokka, of course, ends up breaking it. Shattering moods is kind of what he does. He clears his throat, says, "So…umm…enjoy your nap?" Even he winces at his words.

Aang blinks. "_Nap…?_" His voice is harsh, raspy. He frowns at it, reaches over to one of the bed's side tables, pours himself a glass of water. He sips it, once, twice, thrice, before saying, "So…umm…where the…uhh…_where am I?_"

"About a week out at sea," Katara replies.

Aang takes that in, about as well as he can. "I see…and where am I sailing to…?"

"Well…" Katara tapers off.

"That's a bit of a long story…" I offer.

"Very, very long. Like, epically long…" Sokka says, grimacing.

"The Fire Nation," Toph throws out, smiling.

Aang just about chokes to death, right there in front of us, on the gulp of water he had just taken. And it's a good thing he didn't, because we probably would've just continued to sit and stare. He coughs, splutters, finally croaks out, "_What?!_"

"Maybe," Katara says, looking at me, "we should start at the beginning…"

"That would probably be helpful," Aang coughs out, drinking some more water. "Like, for example, weren't you about to kill me?" He points at me. "That's the last thing I really remember. You standing over me, some crazy lady talking crazy lady-talk, and then I kind of…wake up here?" He looks around the room.

A grimace creases my face. I tub the back of my neck. I feel very awkward, to say the least. "Yeah, about that…"

"He wasn't _actually_ going to do it," Katara says, smiling encouragingly at me.

"Yeah!" Sokka throws in. "Really, he totally saved our asses back there."

Aang nods, not looking the least bit enlightened. "Well, I believe that, I do. The idea that Zuko would, you know, switch over to our side isn't that far-fetched, to be honest. That said, you guys have to admit that the juxtaposition is still a bit…I dunno…_confusing_."

"I can see that," Sokka mumbles, stroking his chin.

"Be that as it may," Katara cuts in, "it doesn't really matter."

"It doesn't?" Aang replies.

Katara shakes her head. "Not really, no. What matters is that Zuko is on our side now, and he's traveling this road with us, and I'm sure he'd rather not go through the particulars one more time."

"Not even for the Avatar?"

"_Especially_ not for the Avatar. And besides, my father already gave him the pass, so I think the matter is closed."

Aang does a double-take. "We met you _father? __**When?!**_"

"About four weeks ago," Sokka throws out casually, his eyes suddenly widening as he realizes what he just said.

Aang leaps up on the bed. "_**A month?! How long have I been out?!**_"

Three of us make faces and look to each other for guidance, which is a fruitless affair, because, well, there really isn't a manual for this kind of situation, is there? Toph, of course, takes the opportunity to just shrug and say, "About two months."

Aang goes about the shade of a piece of chalk. "_**TWO MONTHS?!**_"

"Well…give or take a few days," is Sokka's attempt at an answer. Aang doesn't really hear it, though, because he's busy having a bit of an episode, for which, to be honest, I can't really blame him. Indeed, as I spend the next few minutes watching him stomp around the room, ranting and raving and spluttering incoherently, all I can think is, _He's taking it rather well_. After a bit, Katara, Toph, and I get up and plop ourselves down on the couch, stretching out our legs and waiting for Aang to slow down. Only Sokka attempts to answer all the questions that Aang hurls at him, for reasons I can't begin to comprehend. Maybe he hasn't noticed that the rest of us have withdrawn to safer ground? One guess is as good as the next. After a time, though, Aang lapses from talking at Sokka to berating himself, and Sokka stands and strolls over to us. He watches Aang, shakes his head, and sighs. "Gods," he mutters, "if this is how he reacts to a long _nap_, what's he gonna do when he finds out we sent Appa away?"

Silence drops like a knife. Aang stops dead in his tracks, turns slowly towards us, a lot like a demon in a scary play. If looks could kill, the one Katara sends her brother would have made him burst into flames. Toph smacks a hand to her face and sinks into the cushions. I begin wondering if occupying the cell next to my uncle's really sounds like such a bad idea.

Aang takes a step towards us, then another. His hands are clenched at his sides, and his face looks like he just bit into something particularly unpleasant. When he speaks, it's in a snarl.

"_What did you say?_"

Katara stands, hands out in front of her. "Now, Aang, before you get all dramatic-"

"_**I'm not being dramatic!**_"

Toph bites down a snicker. I don't blame her. I can't help but wonder how all this sounds without the visuals.

Katara sighs, tries again. "You're overreacting, Aang, and you know it."

"_**How can I be overreacting?! How is it possible to overreact to finding out that, after sleeping two months, you get rid of my FUCKING AIR BISON?!**_"

"Man has a point," Sokka offers. The look Katara shoots him finally makes him slump down on the couch next to me. "That'll teach me to open my big mouth," he mumbles to me.

"Doubt it," I mumble back.

"Bite me."

"You're like it too much."

"Sorry, you must've mistaken me for my sister."

I try to come up with a response to that, but, alas, the man has beat in this round of _witty repartee, _so I settled for elbowing him hard in the ribs.

Meanwhile, the show before us goes on.

"It's overreacting because you don't know _why_ we sent Appa away." Katara is trying hard to stay her usual calm, collected self, but it's obvious that she's started to lose her cool, especially because Aang is being…well…_a fifteen-year-old._

"No, it's _not_ overreacting! Appa was my friend!"

"And we need to send your _friend_ out of danger."

"And what danger could that be?"

"Well, we'd _tell_ you if you'd stop throwing a hissy fit for a second and _listen_."

"No, you won't, because you know I'm _right_, and there was no good reason to send Appa away!"

"There was a _very_ good reason. Many, in fact."

"Doesn't matter. You should've asked! He is _mine!_"

"And how were we supposed to ask?"

"_Do you think before or after an ass-wiping would've been the best time?_" Toph whispers to Sokka and I, to which we both try _very hard, honest_, not to burst into hysterics.

"You should've waited! That's the point!" That's Aang again.

"And stuffed the poor guy into a leaky boat?" Back to Katara.

"Or not gotten on a leaky boat at all! Why do we even _need_ a boat? We should just be taking Appa!"

"Right, because _that's_ the way to sneak into a country with fucking _airships._"

"And why the…why the…_why the __**blazes**_ _are we sneaking into the Fire Nation anyways?!_"

"So you can kill Zuko's dad, of course," Toph says, picking her teeth with her pinky.

Aang blinks. "Come again?"

Toph pulls the pinky out, examines it, moves to another molar. "Or Zuko kills his ass. Either way, Ozai's gotta go, so Zuko can take the throne and end the war."

Aang narrows his eyes. "And that has _what_, exactly, to do with Appa?"

At that, Katara has obviously had enough. She huffs, stomps her feet, and plops herself right in my lap. "I give up. Your turn, Zuko."

"I dunno. I think we should just hand it over to Toph."

"Fuck that," is Toph's response to that idea.

I shrug. "Alright." I look at Aang, who has gone from glaring at Toph to staring at Katara and me wide-eyed. I'm starting to see where all the _Aang the Short-Attention Bender_ jokes the gang has told me have come from. I clear my throat, attracting the boy's attention, and say, "I think what Katara is _trying_ to say, if you'd, you know, _let her_, is that the decision to send Appa away was a complex one, and, in the grand scheme of things, not all that terribly important."

Katara sighs, leans back against me. "Isn't that I just said?"

"I followed," Sokka offers.

Aang rubs the bridge of his nose. "Ugh. _Fine_. What is this complex decision process that lead to you sending my air bison away?"

"And let's not forget about the ass-wiping," Toph says in a sing-song voice. This time, Sokka does nothing to restrain his mirth.

Aang just blinks. "What now…?"

Katara and I look at each other. "Well…"

It takes a while, which, of course, is the biggest understatement thus far.

* * *

So, this chapter is a child of many fathers, so to speak. I was actually rather nervous about finally writing Aang into the story. I was discussing it with my girlfriend last night, and she pointed out that problem is that, in this story at least, Aang is Superman, while Zuko is Batman, and let's face it, who wants to write Superman when they can write Batman? Aang always does the right thing, or at least tries to. How's that interesting?

But, really, it is, because Aang allows us to explore both what would happen if ultimate cosmic power was put in the hands of a fifteen-year-old (remember, most us weren't fit to take care of a pet rock at fifteen, at least if you were anything like me), as well as what happens when the person trying to do the right thing is determining what the right thing is when they're…well…_fifteen fucking years old_. And with that, my version of Aang was born. He's a good kid, he really is, and I'll get more into that with the next chapter, but I think a way to ground the character – at least in my story – is to remember that he's really just a kid, in the end, and in a much more _kid-like_ way than, say, Toph. If you are curious about the difference, find two friends who come from similar socio-economic backgrounds, only one came from a nice, functional family, and one did not. They could've done everything else in life differently, but they'd still be radically different people. See how this is working? I basically see Aang as that kid in class (as a teacher, I tend to relate people to kids I've had in classes) who is really the nicest, most genuine kid ever, only they're still a little turd sometimes, because they're still a kid. And that's my Aang, because I _really_ wanted to avoid the _Ron the Death Eater_ territory that so many fanfic writers fall into.

Anyways, in the next chapter, we get to see Aang up and about, and he and Zuko have a chat.


	20. Chapter 20

20. WE SETTLE INTO A ROUTINE ONCE AGAIN, ONLY NOW THE AVATAR IS A PART OF IT. Sokka and I still practice weaponry. Katara still works with the medic and joins me for our sunset smoke and talk. Toph still cavorts with the crew. Fujita and I still plan. Only, like I said, Aang is now being worked in. Mornings and evenings now include bending practice. In the morning, Aang and I work on firebending, while in the afternoon, he and Katara work on waterbending. In the evenings, Toph tries to teach him her new metalbending, which is actually pretty cool, though Aang seems to have a great deal of difficulty mastering the particulars. When Fujita and I meet, Aang joins in.

I'd be lying if I said it all went smoothly. Aang is only fifteen, after all, and clings to his principles and beliefs in a way that only a teenager really can. He insists on not eating meat, even fish. He complains constantly about the every-present haze of tobacco smoke on the ship, and seems particularly put out by how much his friends contribute to it. He won't shut up about Appa. Any mention of how he will probably have to kill my father sends him into a furious sulk. He seems to have conceived some sort of puppy-like passion for Katara, and pursues it without regard for reality. He annoys everyone with his constant questions, and Fujita takes to actively avoiding him, and I really can't emphasize enough how much he harps on Appa. Even the assurance that he the air bison is with an Air Nomad does nothing to calm him, as it only seems to remind him of just how much he missed. And don't even get me started on his reaction to the tale of the fight with Kimura's patrol. The idea that we killed a dozen people – and all seem pretty okay with it – sends him into what can only be described as a hissy fit. He lectures us on and on, until Sokka snaps and lays down an obscenity-laden verbal smackdown that sends the Avatar into a sulk that could put even _me_ to shame.

And yet…none can bring themselves to truly dislike the kid. Aang really is one of the kindest, gentlest, most genuine souls one could ever hope to meet. When he asks for vegetarian fare, he does so with politeness and an apologetic expression. He applies himself to our bending practice with passion and discipline. When he does his _endless questions routine_, he does so with such good-nature that it's hard to stay mad at him. When he's rude, he is doing so unintentionally, and will apologize sincerely when called out on it. Even after the argument with Sokka, after his sulk, he comes out and apologizes to each of us in turn. He accepts my presence without hesitation, and never attempts to challenge or modify my role in the group. He seems to see the world with a child-like wonder that's impossible not to envy. He's naïve, sure, but it's a genuine naivety; he really does seem to believe the best in everyone, and truly believes that everyone deserves another chance. It actually starts to sadden me after a while. Aang would've made the perfect monk; to thrust the role of the Avatar upon him was surely a cruel joke of the gods. No one that kind and gentle-hearted should be forced into the situation he's in.

This is all brought home to me the night we pass Roku's island. We're nearing the end of our second week of sailing. The seas are calm, the summer sun hot and fierce. The decks get so hot that even Toph starts wearing shoes, at least during the day. We're running hard and fast; the clock is ticking, and time is a luxury that we just don't have. The solar eclipse is less than three months away, and we're no closer to having real information for the invasion force. Fujita hopes to put us ashore the day after tomorrow. He's got the perfect place picked out, a generally deserted stretch of beach not far from a town where we should be able to secure some sort of transport. That evening, Katara and I have out smoke, after which she decides to call it an early night. She kisses me softly on the cheek before she goes. She does that a lot now, when our smoke breaks are done. I always follow by kissing her on the forehead. She always sighs and smiles at that. I normally stay at the prow a little longer, generally just to have a quiet moment. That night, though I have another purpose. I want to see the island.

The island does not disappoint.

It blazes in the night. Even after a hundred years, the lava still pours into the sea. My uncle told me once that, not too long ago, the lava poured out in great, flowing rivers. Now, though, the pace has slowed, and the torrents have dwindled to streams. It's still awe-inspiring to behold, though. The island glows like a thousand-thousand torches in the night. Even out at sea, I can feel the heat on my face, and the light is strong enough to read by. I find myself wishing that Katara had stayed. This is a sight meant to be shared, shared with the one you…

_One you what…?_

I'm mulling that question over when a voice interrupts me. "Quite a sight, isn't it?"

I turn towards the voice, nod. "It really is." I turn back to the island, try to pick up the threads of my thoughts.

Aang clears his throat. "Mind if I join you?"

_Oh well. Maybe another time. Katara will probably figure it out first, anyways, and let me know what I think._ "Sure. Help yourself."

He settles down on the prow next to me, feet tucked underneath. I pull out a cigarette, light it, offer him one. He shakes his head, and I put the pack back in my pocket. I close my eyes. There's a soft roar coming from the island, echoing out across the sea. That, combined with the heat, has a rather soothing effect. If I wasn't perched on the edge of the ship next to the Avatar, it would be very easy to drift off to sleep.

_Even then…_

"What do you know about Roku?"

I open my eyes. "Hmm?"

"Roku. What do you know about him?"

I rummage through my mind, tiling over dusty boxes and battered crates.

"The same as anyone else, I suppose," I say, "that he was the Avatar before you, and that he had the chance to end the war before it even began, but hesitated, and the world paid for it."

Aang sighs. "I suppose that's one way to look at it."

I look over at him. "It's the only way to look at it."

Aang slumps. "Yeah, that's what Roku says."

"Well, there you go."

He pops back up. "But I don't believe him! I mean, he must've known it was wrong, on a basic, human level. Why else would he hesitate?"

"Well, the rumor in the Fire Nation is that it was because Sozin was actually Roku's son. Sozin didn't know this, but Roku did. Thus, he blinked."

Aang turns to me, eyes wide. "Come again?"

I shrug. "It's been a rumor in the Fire Nation since at _least_ Sozin's reign. Apparently, Sozin and Roku looked a lot alike, and Roku was known to be friendly with Sozin's mother. So, there you go. Doesn't excuse Roku, but it's an explanation."

Aang slumps back down, turns back to the island. "Do you really believe that?"

"Not really, no. The dates and the ages don't match up, when you look at it, and my uncle always thought it was horseshit, which is good enough for me." _Besides, it was my __**mother**__ who was descended from Roku, which I'm sure drove my father crazy._ "Though, when you think about it, it would make our task that much easier. Just prove that my line is not really legitimate, and _boom_, my father's off the throne and the war's over."

"I guess…but…wouldn't that mean that _you_ can't be Fire Lord?"

"Meh. Like I said, the important thing is that it would disqualify my father. Whether or not my people feel that it would disqualify me, though, doesn't bother me much. I intend to try and live a good life either way."

Aang chuckles. "That's very Zen of you, Zuko. I really didn't think you had it in you."

"I'm trying." I turn, regard him for a few moments. "What's this all about, Aang, I mean, _really?_ This talk of Roku and Sozin and shit?"

He closes his eyes, shakes his head. "I'm not…I'm not entirely sure, Zuko. I guess I'm just trying to wrap my head around everything that happened while I was out. I mean, for me, at least, one minute, your sister (or so you guys tell me) is telling you to kill me, and the next, you're my firebending _sifu_, and we're sailing to the Fire Nation in your old ship while your old crew treats you like the Fire Lord." He opens his eyes, sighs heavily. "And plus, Appa's gone."

I struggle hard not to roll my eyes. "Aang, you're really going to have to let that go."

"I know, I know…but it's hard! I mean, he was my _friend_, my last real link to my people."

"That's not true. Your people are still around. Hell, Appa's chilling with one right now."

"That's just the thing, though. This man, this…_Lobsang_, he's not really _my people_, is he? My people, as I knew them, would _never_ have done the things you guys are telling me he did. Eat meat? _Kill?_ If my people have fallen to that, then they're not really my people anymore."

"Don't you think that's a bit unfair?"

"Yeah…probably…but it's just…it's _hard_, to not think like that. I listen to all of this, and I can't help but mourn for all that has been lost. My people will never be the same. The people I knew, that I grew up with, _that I loved…_well…they're _gone_."

"A lot of things have been lost, Aang, and the entire _world_ will never be the same."

"That's true. How do we get it back, then?"

"We don't. _We can't_. We can only fight for a future worth living in."

"Even if people have to die to get there? How can that be a future worth living in, if we actively stop people from getting to it? _How is that a good path to follow?_" His voice is soft, small, pleading. My heart goes out to him, it really does. I reach out, lay a hand on his shoulder.

"Look, Aang, I'm really not the guy to give advice on tough decisions and inner turmoil. I mean, Agni, if anything, I can just give pointers on how to function with it. But the things is…I dunno…here's the truth: Nothing's going to be easy, ever again, and the road will be long and hard. We'll all have some tough choices to make, and, I can't help but feeling…you'll be dealing with that most of all."

"But I won't kill anybody."

"You may not have a choice."

He turns to me, fire dancing in his eyes. "_There's __**always**__ a choice._"

I pat his back, pull my hand away. "And I hope that you always have one."

He blinks in confusion. "What's that mean?"

I shake my head, turn back to the island. _What the fuck __**does**__ it mean? Gods, I'm starting to sound like my uncle._ "Doesn't matter, Aang. Right, now, it just…doesn't matter."

The volcano continues to roar and blaze into the night, long after we pass it by.

* * *

So, I really wanted to get into the nitty gritty of Aang's dilemma here. I always felt that the way he clings to his beliefs is very teenager-y. If you don't believe me, try to talk a teenager out of…well…_anything_. It really just doesn't work out very well, and gets worse the harder you push. It always seemed to me that the truth was that the Air Nomads were probably a bit more complex than either he or the show gave them credit for. After all, when he finds Monk Gyatso's body, it's surrounded by skeletons in Fire Nation uniforms. Obviously, pacifism isn't set in stone among the Air Nomads, just as it isn't among Buddhists. Thailand still has a military, after all, and has never shown any lack of will to defend itself over its history.

I also like the way that he and Zuko interact here. It's a good example of how changing the ages of the characters affects the ways they interact. In the show, Zuko's just a kid himself; he doesn't have much wisdom to offer the Avatar. In this universe, though, a twenty-two-year-old Zuko has a lot to offer Aang, and he tries to, because he's gradually growing more confidant in himself (Zuko is; Katara has a lot to do with that).

I also think that now is the time to officially unveil myself as a Zutaran. My hope is that the story stands up on its own merits, and even a fervent Kataanger will be able to appreciate it. Even so, it should be obvious that, in this universe, any kind of _thing_ between Katara and Aang is impossible, not just with the age difference, but also because…well…as Toph so elegantly pointed out last chapter, her and Zuko did just spend the last two months wiping his ass on the regular.

One last bit, on my posting habits. I'm not some crazed writing machine, so much as I make a habit of writing every day. My job as a substitute teacher means that I get a lot of free time, once the kids are settled and doing their busy work. The result is legal pads full of writing. When I get some downtime in the evening, while the girl works out or watches a chick flick, I boot up the computer and type up a few chapters and post them. That way, I spend the next day getting my fix of reviews. So really, it's all about me. _Bwah hahahahaha!_

In the next chapter, we land in the Fire Nation. Woo!


	21. Chapter 21

21. THE BEACH IS DESERTED, AS PREDICTED, BUT FUJITA INSISTS ON CAUTION. We arrive at night, and immediately, scouting parties are sent ashore. Even after they return, we wait, observe the beach for most of the day. Only then does Fujita agree to a landing.

The landing itself is hurried, stripped of any ceremony. Everyone already has their orders. Fujita is to take the ship around to the western coast, land, wait for either us, the invasion force, or both. We are to make our way on foot, gathering as much information as possible. I have a list, memorized, of sympathizers in each district along our path. The only person I share this list with is Katara. Between the two of us, I doubt that we'll forget anything. When I tell this to Fujita, rather than objecting, as I expected, he smiles knowingly, taps a finger to his nose, and winks.

It only takes about ten minutes for our boat to beach, unload, and re-launch. We're traveling light, carrying only what can fit in packs slung over our backs. Each of us carries food, a map, a compass, a waterskin, and a poncho (in case of rain). Except for Aang, we have daggers strapped to our belts, and Aang is also the only one without tobacco in his pack. Next to the daggers, each of us also carries a coin purse, along with purses stashed in our packs. Beyond that, though, we have only our wits and our hopes. To carry more would be to attracted unwanted attention more than our ragged, ill-fitting clothes already will.

There is only one moment of ceremony, one moment of _gravitas_. Fujita and I confront each other, just before the launch casts off. We don't say a word. He nods at me, I nod at him. We bow, low, deep, as equals. We do not rise as equals, though; he outwaits me. I don't mean to, but it's obvious that he does. When he rises, he taps his nose, winks, and shoves the launch from the shore with his boot. I watch him go, trying to contain my chagrin, before turning on my heel and running to join the others.

The beach is surrounded by low hills covered in trees and brush. The rest of the gang is crouched beneath one of those trees. I join them, smile. I feel strangely giddy, though I know I shouldn't. We have officially passed the point of no return. There can be no going back, only forward. At the end of this road is death, if not ours, then someone else's. I should feel lonely, tired, burdened, weighed down by crushing responsibility. The others should feel no different.

And yet…_I don't._ None of us do. I look at each of them in turn, and see big, goofy grins that no doubt match my own. I feel downright _excited_. My heart races, and a strange, tingly sensation fills my chest and limbs. I want to hug them all. I want to laugh until I cry. I want to climb a tree and announce my return to the world. I don't understand this, I really don't. Maybe it's the very _finality_ of our act that's making us feel this way.

_Or maybe, just maybe, we've finally lost our damn minds._ Any and all possibilities are equally likely.

"So," I say, still grinning like a loon, "here we are."

"Here we are, indeed," agrees Sokka. He looks around, whistles. "I have to say, doesn't look like much."

"I gotta agree with you there," says Toph.

"Right? Kind of barren."

_Beat._ "Too easy."

Sokka smacks his forehead. "For fuck's sake…"

"That'll _never _get old," Katara observes.

"I always thought it would," says Aang, "and yet…"

"Ugh, _whatever_," Sokka sighs. He rolls his eyes and turns to me. "So, what's next?"

"Next," I say, sticking a cigarette in my mouth, "I intend to enjoy my first smoke in my Homeland in over four years. _Then_, we head into town, find the Lord and Lady Mori, and try to score some information, some clothes, maybe a decent meal."

"Maybe," Aang says, frowning, "we should enjoy that smoke _while_ doing the other things."

"Speak for yourself," Katara replies, leaning in for me to light her cigarette. Soon, four cigarettes are blazing away while Aang looks on with disapproval. As soon as we're done, we stub them out against the tree, shoulder our packs, and move out.

We follow a winding path, more _track_ than _road_, weaving amongst scrub and gnarled trees. It's very hot, and all are soon sweating and shirtless. Even the girls strip down, leaving their chest wrappings, of course. We walk in a loose file, Katara and I in front, followed by Toph, Aang, and then Sokka, who pants and curses all the way. We don't say much, just take in the atmosphere and the moment. Aang keeps trying to drink from his waterskin, and Toph keeps swatting him for it, reminding him of the need to ration it out. When Aang complains, Sokka points out that if _he_ can control himself, surely the _Avatar_ can. This seems to motivate Aang, who takes it as something of a challenge. Whatever the reason, it works.

We walk for a solid hour, after which we take a short water break, stretch, then walk for another hour. The track slowly widens, joins another, then merges into a road. Traffic picks up. We pass random citizens, many peasants walking just as shirtless as us. No one takes much notice of us; we wrapped Aang's head in a headscarf, and most don't spare us enough attention to notice the tattoos on his arms. This close to the sea, sailors and their tattoos are a common side, and besides, how many peasants are likely to know what a master airbender's tattoos look like, especially since the Air Nomads abandoned the practice generations ago? Even a random mounted patrol pays us no heed, sparing a random group of peasants not so much as a glance.

Afternoon dwindles, and the sun sinks towards the horizon. A light breeze begins to flow, rustling the trees and cooling the sweat on our skins. The closer we get to our destination, the more people we find on the road. Town dwellers increase, as does the quality of the clothing on display. We still attract little notice. We put our shirts back on, keep our heads down, avoid eye contact, and thus all see nothing but bedraggled peasants. The sun is halfway below the horizon when we finally arrive at the town.

Its name is Tochigi, and it's not much to look at. Maybe ten-thousand people live there, residing in a collection of modest homes sprawled along the shoreline. The dock (such as it is) is crowded with fishing boats, and what wealth there is, is either hereditary or connected to some form of trade. Torches are being lit as we arrive. There are no walls and no gates; piracy isn't feared because there's just not much to steal. Everywhere we look, we see the elderly, the young, the wounded. The only uninjured men are either very old or very young. A small platoon of new recruits drills on the village square. I watch them as we pass. They are almost heart-breakingly young. I think a silent prayer that I can save them.

The house we are looking for is easy to find. It's the biggest house in the town, and by far the nicest. The others express admiration, but a life spent in the capital and the surrounding districts has taught me to spot the little details. I look it over, note the faded paint and the poorly-tended garden, take in the signs of low-grade provincial nobility. I can't help but wonder if this is where all of my support will come from. Any help is welcome, of course, but without at least a few members of the upper nobility on my side, my incipient revolution won't get very far.

We find a row of shops, closed for the night, down the street from the house, sit down as Katara goes on ahead. We watch as she knocks, speaks to someone, and vanishes inside. The second the door clicks behind her, my heart climbs up my throat and takes residence in my mouth. I realize that it's going to be very long few minutes. To distract myself, I light a cigarette, take long, calming drags.

"So," Aang asks, "who are the Moris, anyways?"

"The local nobility," I answer, eyes glued to the door. "Pure feudalism no longer exists, not since Sozin's reforms over a century ago, but my country is still a class-based society. Even a town this minor will have its couple of old noble-born families running the show."

Toph stirs. "Sozin had reforms?"

I nod. "Many. That's how he started, actually, as a reformer. If he hadn't started the war, he'd probably be remembered as one of the best Fire Lords ever."

"Huh," is Toph's only comment before she settles her head back onto her pack. Aang, of course, has more questions.

"Why does Katara have to go in?"

"Because she's the most level-headed, knows all the names and passwords, and can be safely refused."

"Huh? How do you mean?"

"Even if someone wants to refuse me, decline the cause, but not actively fight against it, they can't safely turn me away. Even to slam the door in my face without immediately trying to turn me over first would be treason in my father's eyes. Katara, on the other hand, is _just some random strange girl, I swear, officer, we didn't think anything of it, thought she was crazy, rushed her out the door and forgot about it._"

"Clever, I suppose…but what if there's a trap?"

I smile. "I imagine we'd know about it by now."

"Water whips tearing the place apart would be hard to miss," is Sokka's contribution. Aang mulls this over, and seems about to say something else, when the door finally opens. I leap to my feet before anyone else, hand on my dagger, until Katara steps out. She seems amused at my concern, smiles, waves us forward. We all heave a sigh of relief, shoulder our packs, and follow her inside.

* * *

And with that, we arrive in the Fire Nation! If you were expecting fireworks (heh), then remember that the whole _point_ of this mission is to _avoid_ drama for as long as possible. Thus, the Gaang gets ashore as fast as they can, and head for the nearest person likely to point them in the right direction, in this case, the Lord and Lady Mori, whom I really, really like, and whom I think you'll all like when you meet them in the next chapter.

Somewhere out there, there's someone who's gotten used to my realism and said, _Wait, how can they just __**wander around**__ like that? How is that real?_ Well, the honest truth is that anyone with any kind of undercover training will tell you that the best place to hide is in plain sight. People look long and hard at things trying to hide or remain inconspicuous, but think about it: If a dude walked by you at work with two heads, just sipping a cup of coffee and talking and acting completely normal, would you notice? Science, oddly enough, says that you wouldn't, and even if you did, if there was nothing else to notice (like, for example, he wasn't doing something crazy, just acting normal), you probably wouldn't even remember it. This is a world where, even if people _do_ know that the Avatar is an Air Nomad, how many would actually know what the means, or know what the tattoos look like, or have any idea that the Avatar himself has them? Your average person just wouldn't. And so the Gaang is following the primary rule of subterfuge: _If you act like you belong in a place, people will tend to assume that you do, in fact, belong there._

In the next chapter, we meet the Lord and Lady Mori, who are probably my favorite OCs thus far. We learn a little bit more about the developing conspiracy, and I do some set up for later plot twists.


	22. Chapter 22

22. THE LORD AND LADY MORI RECEIVE US IN THEIR STUDY. Like the outside of the house, the inside, while impressive by local standards, still shows the signs of nobility fallen on hard times. I see very few servants, all of them old, obviously long-time family retainers. The house is calm, cool, quiet. Everything has an air of dust and despair. The furnishings, though nice, are all at least a decade old, and few of the books in the study show any signs of having been read recently.

An elderly servant, simply dressed, leads us into the study, bows, and closes the doors behind us. We bow to the Lord and Lady, who bow in return. Both are old, at least in their sixties, but proud. They stand rigid, straight-backed, shoulders high, faces set and determined. Though their faces are old, their eyes sparkle with intelligence, and Lord Mori lacks the paunch most of the upper class acquires with age. The only detail marring this perfect picture of Fire Nation nobility and strength is Lord Mori's empty right sleeve, folded and pinned to his side.

Lord Mori speaks first. His voice is strong and full. "It is an honor to have you in our home, your majesty."

I bow my head. "The honor is all mine, Lord Mori. My uncle often told me of how you saved his life in battle when you were both young."

He smiles, rigid, controlled, but genuine. "You remember that old war story, do you?"

I smile back. "I remember everything my uncle told me, my lord."

His smile loses in control, but gains in warmth. "That, your majesty, is just what I wanted to hear."

_Another answer…_

_ What happens when I get one wrong?_

He turns to his wife, nods. The Lady Mori nods back, turns to us. "We would be honored if you could all join us for tea and cakes. We would offer dinner, but we have already dismissed our cook for the evening."

I bow. "Tea and cakes sounds perfect, my lady."

We eat at a low square table, kneeling, sipping, munching. Lord and Lady Mori kneel across from Katara and I, while Sokka kneels across from Aang and Toph. Toph's table manners astound me. I have never seen the girl ear without making an unholy mess, smacking her lips and belching like a man thrice her size. Tonight, though, she reminds us all that before she was _Toph the Crazy Blind Earthbender_, she was _Toph Bei Fong, Daughter of Wealth, Privilege, and Nobility._ Aang spends the entire evening desperately trying to imitate her. Katara blends in like a pro, which is fortunate, because the less said about her brother's table manners, the better. Let's just say that, by the end of the evening, he has several bruises on his legs from where Katara has pinched him under the table.

Lord Mori wastes no time, speaking as soon as his wife has poured the tea. "So, you majesty, is it true, what the young lady has told us? Have you indeed accepted the crown that was offered to you?"

I nod. "Yes, my lord, it is true. It was not something I wanted or desired, but I have accepted it, nonetheless."

"Thank the gods," Lady Mori whispers, sighing with relief. Lord Mori nods, asks, "And what do you intend to do with this crown?"

I do not hesitate. "Throw my father off his throne and end the war."

Lord Mori bows his head. "Then you are all your uncle once promised me and more. I am your man to the death."

I bow my head in return. "I am honored to have a man like you in my cause."

Beside me, Katara bows her head, in perfect imitation of me. Water Tribe peasant or no, she learns fast. "If all of our supporters have _half_ the strength and integrity of yourselves, Lord and Lady, we cannot _hope_ to lose."

The Lord and Lady blush, smile at Katara. "You're too kind, my lady," Lady Mori replies, all while shooting her husband a look so subtle all almost miss it, _would_ have missed it, if Lord Mori had not been as sly at returning it. I look at Katara out of the corner of my eye, catch her looking back, just as subtly. We both sip our tea to cover the moment.

"My lord," I saw, taking up the business at hand, "do you have any idea what we're about, at the moment?"

He nods. "I can guess, your majesty, but I would appreciate it if you clarified yourself."

"Of course. You are, I'm sure, aware that a solar eclipse is coming, and total one, at least here over the Fire Nation."

His eyes narrow. "I am. All are aware of it. Little else has been spoken of for months now."

"Then you must have guessed by now that we intend to use the eclipse to remove my father from power."

Lady Mori gasps, but Lord Mori merely un-narrows his eyes. "A foolhardy plan, but most are, these days."

"Options are, as I'm sure you're aware, rather thin on the ground these days."

"Indeed. I take it that you require some sort of information, something to help you in your quest?"

I bow my head. "You strike straight to the heart of the matter."

He chuckles. "As do you. Unfortunately, all I can give you are rumors. Here at the edge of the Homeland, we know little for sure, and it has been a long time since my family was a player in the wider affairs of the kingdom."

"What rumors do you have?"

"Well," he says, smiling, "for one, there's the rumor that Zuko, the Banished Prince, has returned, and seeks to claim his father's throne and end the war." He winks. "Though that's just crazy."

"We don't even believe it ourselves," Lady Mori adds, smiling into her tea.

"It is absurd, I agree," I say, forcing down my own grin. "What of how the current Fire Lord, long may he reign, plans to deal with both his son's return and the coming eclipse?"

Lord Mori shakes his head. "That, I do not know. The current rumor is that the Fire Lord has abandoned the capital for a so-called _safer location_. Apparently, the mood in Miyako unsettles him, and he does not care to chance his throne on the population's loyalty, especially not after the display when his brother was brought through the streets in chains." I stiffen, and he notices. "Alas, as for the whereabouts and health of the Dragon of the West, I know nothing. Most are reasonably sure that General Iroh remains alive, but beyond that, none I know can be sure." He sets his tea cup down, turns it on its saucer. "However, I do know a man, closer to the heart of things, whose loyalty is still not questioned by the throne. He may have what you seek."

"And who is this man?"

"Master Piandao."

I almost drop my tea cup. _Master Piandao? The man who taught me everything I know about sword fighting? The man, the myth, the legend? The greatest swordsman the Fire Nation – possibly even the __**world**__ – has ever known? A man whose loyalty to the Fire Nation is without question? __**That Master Piandao?**_

I blink, cough into my hand. "Master Piandao has joined our cause?"

Lord Mori smiles. "Master Piandao was the man who officially brought me into the fold, about a month ago. It was he who maintained contact with your man, Fujita, he who compiled the roster of our cause. He is, however, still trusted by those in power. If anyone can give you answers, it is he."

I shake my head. It's a lot to take in. _Master Piandao, a traitor?_ It boggles the mind. And yet…_it doesn't_. As I said, his loyalty to the Fire Nation is without question. _The Fire Nation_. If my father has lost Piandao, then his seat on the throne is even more precarious than I thought.

_Piandao…_

_ Agni, if we really have Piandao…_

A voice cuts through my thoughts. It's Aang. Before we entered the study, I had made very clear to him that he was not to speak unless spoken to. Avatar or no, he was still a fifteen-year-old boy; a noble as old and conservative as Lord Mori would not take kindly to someone that age speaking out of turn. And besides, as I reminded Aang, the Avatar is not necessarily the best-loved person in the Fire Nation, especially after the Siege of the North.

But alas, Aang seems to have forgotten all of that.

"Excuse me," he says, swallowing a bite of cake, "may I ask something?"

The look the Lord and Lady Mori give him is nothing but polite and inquisitive, _receptive_, even. That is, _on the surface_. Delve an inch beneath, though, and the noble unaccustomed to a teenager speaking out of turn is writ plain as day. I give Katara a quick grimace, and somehow, then and there, we both agree, without speaking, to give Aang some etiquette lessons.

"Of course, Lord Avatar. Your wisdom is always welcome." Toph barely swallows a snicker with a mouthful of tea.

"Well, I'm afraid I have no wisdom today, but I have to ask…_why?_ Why are you helping us? Why are you doing all of this?"

It's the Lady Mori who speaks, only she doesn't say a word. She stands, strolls to the Lord Mori's desk, returns. She lays down a small portrait, beautifully drawn, of a younger, happier Lord and Lady Mori, surrounded by five smiling sons and two beautiful daughters. When she speaks, her voice strong enough to break stone. She reminds me an awful lot of my mother.

_Or, at least, what I remember…_

"_That_, Lord Avatar, is why we are helping you. _That_, Lord Avatar, is why we will fight. _That_, Lord Avatar, is why we must end this horrid war."

Lord Mori clears his throat. The emotion hidden beneath the surface of his face hurts my heart. "We have given two sons, a son-in-law, and my right arm in service of what we thought was our nation's pride and honor. Now, it is obvious that we have, instead, sacrificed all for a madman's quest for power beyond the means of any to grasp. We will not allow any more of our children to suffer because of this." He lowers his gaze, takes up the portrait, cradles it in his hands. "_We must show the world we are not all like __**him**__._" He spits out the last, in the same manner of a man addressing a particularly gruesome insect.

"We are the world in miniature, Lord Avatar," Lady Mori finishes. "Battered, bruised, tired, a shell of what we once were. Only drastic measures can save us before we are broken." She turns to me. "_That_ is why we help you."

Only one of us has a functioning mind after that. Only one of us can think of something to say. It is, of course, Katara.

"_Thank you._"

* * *

Hey guys, I'm back! Sorry there were no updates yesterday. I meant to, I really did, but yesterday was a crazy day, and I was just too tired when I got home to get on here and type. And besides, I don't like to post unless I'm sure I'll be at least two-three chapters ahead of where you guys are, so there you go.

This chapter went through a lot of permutations. It's a delicate moment, and I really wanted to do the Lord and Lady Mori justice. I hope I have. They are, as Lady Mori points out, the world writ small. The entire world is reeling; only something truly outrageous can stem the tide. Zuko has decided to take up that mantle; the question remains, of course, _Can Aang?_ I'm still not entirely sure.

A couple shout-outs, and a couple of comments. One, a shout-out to the lovely emletish, once again, from whom I stole the explanation for why Aang isn't exactly _popular_ in the Fire Nation, even amongst those who support Zuko. Remember, these people might be traitors, but they're still patriots, and who knows how many had sons and brothers who died at the North. Zuko is one of them; they can sympathize with him, trust him to have their best interests at heart. Aang, though? They're going to be a bit stand-offish.

Also, a shout-out to BeakerPD, who pointed out to me that I made a fix that I hadn't even known I'd made. Sometime in the last few chapters, I discussed Sozin and Roku. In the series, it's stated that they were both friends, and yet old when Roku died. This…doesn't really work, if we go with the whole Sozin-Azulon-Ozai succession. Unless we want to shoehorn another guy in (and fuck that, this is enough work as is), then they both had to at _least_ be in their mid-to-late thirties when shit started to go down. The point of this shout-out was to say how cool I find it when my fans are smarter and more observant than me.

And finally, to my new follower, NatNicole. Alas, a lot of the series's episodes from Book Three will not survive. Either they'll be gone, or they'll be drastically altered. A lot just doesn't fit in with the tone of this story, or with my attempt at realism. I hope you (and others who were hoping for some of those episodes) don't mind. I really _wanted_ to work a lot of that in, but it's best for the story when I don't shackle myself to Canon.

In the next chapter, the Gaang gets ready to hit the road, and after that, a long journey.


	23. Chapter 23

23. WE SLIP OUT OF TOWN AT DAYBREAK, JUST AS THE WORLD IS COMING TO LIFE. We wear fresh, more-or-less fitting clothes, most contributed by the servants' families, as we need plain, not gaudy. We opt for older items, sturdy but a little threadbare. It turns out that Sokka and I match two of the Mori sons in foot size, and thus score fresh boots. Katara's in love with her new clothes. She seems to really enjoy how she looks in Fire Nation colors.

_I can't say that I disagree…_

As soon as we arrived, Lord Mori gave one of his sons, Senju, an ostrich-horse and a message for Master Piandao, telling of our arrival. He's well on the road before we're even done drinking our tea. We catch a few hours' sleep, then begin picking out the clothes. Everyone enjoys themselves; we all have the feeling that this will be the last bit of fun for some time. Lady Mori and her daughters even get in on the action, having a great time helping the girls put together outfits.

There is a bit of a scene with Aang, though…

As a teenage boy, it takes much trial-and-error to try and figure out something that will both fit and cover up his arms (we don't want to rely on _hiding in plain sight_ too much longer). When he finally finds the perfect fit, it turns out to be something he adores. He stomps out to show Sokka and I, and, I have to admit, he _does _look sharp. That said…

"You can't wear that," I say.

He blinks. "Why not?"

I roll my eyes. "Because it's a fucking _school uniform_, Aang."

He shrugs. "So?"

"_So?!_ So, the second you get seen in that, someone will bust you for playing hooky and haul your ass back to school."

"Meh, so I go to school for a day, and as soon as I go home, we forget about it."

I smack my hand to my forehead. "That's not how it works, Aang. The second you get dragged into school, they'll figure out that you have no records, and then they'll start asking questions."

He grins. "Then we'll stage a daring escape that will life on in legend!"

My temper rises. I know it shouldn't. I know he's not really serious, that he's probably at least half joking, the goofy grin on his face tells it all. _I know all this, I really do_. And yet…I can still feel my blood boil, because, the thing is, _he's only half-joking, because he's Aang, and this is how his brain works sometimes_. These really are the moments I like Aang the least. "Aang, need I remind you that that _defeats the entire fucking purpose!_"

Aang wilts a little, not least because all of the candles in the room flare for just a moment. Sokka, unperturbed, leans over to a candle and lights a cigarette, settling back to blatantly enjoy the show.

"Man," Aang mutters, "skipping school really that big of a deal here?"

"Yes," I growl, "it is. The kind of people who send their kids to a school that requires _that_ kind of uniform tend to pay the kind of money that makes them want to make sure their kids are actually _there_, and the school itself is exactly the kind of place that will ask a few fucking _questions._"

He shrugs, rubs the back of his neck. "Really? That's kind of…_crazy_, Zuko, I'm not gonna lie. I mean, we skipped off class all the time at my temple, and no one ever got bent out of shape about it…"

I won't lie, I snap. I _may_ have shouted something along the lines of, _Well, __**that**__ explains a lot!_ I _may_ have threatened the _living incarnation of the spirit of the planet_ with grievous bodily harm. I _may_ have required the intervention of Katara to prevent myself from carrying out these threats. None of that really matters, though. What _does_ matter is that, in the end, _somehow_, Aang sees reason. It might've been my threats…or it _might_ have had something to do with the glare Katara gives him as she ushers me out of the room. Point is, I was right, and managed to avoid making _Avatar Killing_ a family tradition.

For travel, we receive five ostrich-horses from Lord Mori's stables. Sokka, Aang, and I all right our own, while Katara and Toph share one with a fifth carrying out things. Along with the horses, the Moris give, over our objections, an extra pack full of food and some money. We already have more than we need, and we tell this to Lord Mori, but neither he nor his wife will hear any argument.

We depart with as little ceremony as possible. The Lord and Lady and all their servants see us off. Katara and I make a point to thank each one, seeing as they contributed most of our new clothes. We mount up, begin to head out. Before I leave, I pull the ostrich-horse aside, bow deeply from the saddle. The assembled household returns the bow, the servants pressing their foreheads to the ground. I rise, nod, turn back, and re-join the group.

We pause on a tall hill outside of town. We water the mounts, and I review the map. I spare one last look at the town behind us. Early morning sunlight bathes it in a warm, ethereal glow. It looks almost unreal, like a painting on a wall. The beauty of the scene breaks my heart. My eyes burn, and I shake the tears away before they can fall.

An arm slips through mine, a head settles onto my shoulder. "You have a very beautiful country, Zuko." Katara's voice, soft and gentle.

"Yes, I do," I reply, voice thick. "Now, if only I can save it from itself."

"If anyone can do it, it's you." She pops up, kisses my cheek. "And just so you know, _I'm_ not going anywhere."

"Heh…don't make a guy a promise you can't keep."

A whisper, hot in my ear.

"_I never do._"

I kiss her forehead. "I believe you."

We ride.

* * *

And we're off! Not too much to say here. There is a bit of a _take that_ to that school episode. That particular episode is, as a matter of fact, one of my favorites; when I originally started planning this story, I had my own version of it. Alas, it just doesn't fit the tone and the themes, and let's face it, it's one of those episodes that really stretches the boundaries of belief, even in the Canon universe. Though, like I said, I really dig that episode. It's one of the few where the Fire Nation is actually treated like a real place where human beings live.

Now, a few notes before we move to the next chapter: I'm about to fuck the Canon geography up the ass. It wasn't until I started doing some research that the show has the Gaang chill on the outlying islands for…well…_a really long freaking time._ Yeah, we obviously can't do that. Thus, the locations of both Jang Hui and Shu Jing are going to change. I won't burden you with details now; it should be explained adequately in the story.

In the next chapter, we get a real close look at the horrors that Ozai's rule has inflicted upon his people. Also, Zutara heats up!


	24. Chapter 24

24. THE FIRE NATION IS, IN FACT, TWO: A NOTHERN ARM AND A SOUTHERN ARM. The two halves are connected by a narrow isthmus and could not be more different. The north is a land of rolling plains and rippling hills, fertile and rich. The capital, Miyako, is there, along with the biggest cities and the oldest, wealthiest families. The Imperial Guard is mostly recruited from there, and the families there are, as far as I know, still at least outwardly loyal to my father. Here, one can find vast swaths seemingly untouched by the war, and one will hear few words said against the current Fire Lord, though that seems to be as much from fear as anything else. After hearing of my sister's tantrum a few months before, it's easy to understand why.

We do not travel through the north, though; no, the land we travel through is full of barren hills and jagged mountains. The land seems almost burnt by the sun here, and no family has been left untouched by war. In every village and town, we glimpse men without arms, legs, hands, feet, eyes. Every stream seems polluted by some factory, and every factory runs non-stop, day and night. There are soldiers everywhere we go, drilling in open fields or marching to the front. The workers in the fields seem bent, their eyes ringed with exhaustion. My father's rule is hard here; rare is the town square without a body hanging from a noose. Their crimes run the gamut from petty theft to draft dodging to speaking out of turn, the crimes of poverty and desperation.

We want to help, but we can't. Even in the best of time, the trip to Shu Jin would take at least two weeks, and this is far from _the best of times._ We ride hard and fast, from sun-up to sun-down, resting only every third day, and even then, only until noon. Even our days of rest are not peaceful; the time is spent teaching Aang how to firebend. He's getting better, slowly but surely, but we both worry that it won't be enough, should the time ever come. His technique is sloppy, and he seems to have no patience for learning defensive moves. According to Toph, these were the same issues he had with learning earthbending. His natural inclination is to be fluid and open, and while firebending is fluid, it requires tight control and strict discipline, two things Aang…well…_lacks_. He tries, though, and tries hard; every night, he practices his moves, long after the rest of us are asleep.

We don't talk much; within a few days, we're all much too tired. We avoid major towns and roads as much as possible, strike out down tracks and game trails. We sleep rough, and rarely date to light a fire. We eat out food cold, which causes Sokka to voice endless complaints. No one stops him, though; he's only saying what we're all thinking.

The closer we get to the isthmus, the more danger there is. Our pace slows, and we spent as much time dodging patrols as we do actually _traveling_. According to Lord Mori, most of the troops are local, and probably sympathetic to my cause, but we all agree that it's too much of a risk to test that out. And so, we hide, and we travel, and we sleep, and we hide, and we ride.

Some of the stickiest moments, oddly enough, come not from our enemies, but our Avatar. He constantly wants to stop and poke his nose in somewhere. More than once, he tries to sneak off to help someone he's encountered along the way. It's with great difficulty that we manage to get him back on the road, not least because he's only expressing our inner desires.

The worst moment comes when we reach the Jang Hui river. We're eight days out from Tochigi, and the river is the only major one between us and Shu Jing. Every crossing is garrisoned, so we are forced to waste a whole day riding up and down it, looking for someone to smuggle us across. The river is dotted with factories, and the stench of pollution is truly horrific. Huge swaths of the river are more slime than water, and everywhere we go, we encounter the sick, the injured, the lame. The sheer scale of poverty is mind-numbing; we all feel as if we are in a haze. Our very hearts ache; all of us do our best to pretend that our eyes are red because of the fumes.

The sun is fallen before we find someone to take us across. We come upon a tiny village, too small to even have a name. As in so many other places, all of the young men are gone; only women and the elderly remain. There's only one boat here, just large enough for us and our horses. We ride up to it, find an old man, whittling a stick and puffing on a putrid-smelling cigarette. His name is Ishida, and he agrees to take us across for food and tobacco; as he explains it, the food is for his family, and the tobacco is to help him feel better about having to beg for food. I doubt this is true; good tobacco is valuable on the black market in these parts.

Ishida is very old, with a bent back and wrinkles deep as canyons lining his face. He is thin as a rail, without an ounce of meat on his bones. He hums a ditty as we load the boat, something sad and tuneless. He does not ask our names, nor do we give them. He does not even really look at our faces.

Halfway across the river, Katara speaks. "Was it always like this?"

Ishida shrugs. "Hard? Of course. We've never been rich here, but once upon a time, we were comfortable. The river was clean, and the fish were plentiful and fat." He sighs. His voice is like cracked leather being bent. "Not anymore, though."

Sokka looks down at the water, such as there is. "What happened?"

I reach down in the darkness, take Katara's hand in mine. I squeeze, and she squeezes back. "Ozai happened," I mutter.

Ishida shrugs, nods, continues to pole our way across. We had all offered to help, but, as he pointed out, we'd only get in the way.

"Aye," he says, "I can't argue with that. There have always been factories, sure, and the war is older than even _me_. And yet, when Ozai came to the throne…well, it just got worse. Suddenly, there were press gangs and more factories and they didn't even try to clean up after themselves anymore. The fish dried up, people got sick, all the young folk either got drafted or had to head into the factories for work. Anyone who complained ended up in a noose. That was the biggest change; say what you will about Sozin or Azulon, but neither of them ever cared how much the peasants grumbled." He falls quiet, turns, looks at me, though not above my chin. "Though, really, what can one expect, from a man who burned his own flesh and blood, and keeps his older brother in chains?"

"Indeed," is all I can say. I feel another squeeze in my hand. I squeeze back. It's almost as if she knew my scar had begun to ache.

"Really," Ishida continues, "the way things are, no wonder the Painted Lady left us."

"The Painted Lady?" Aang asks.

Ishida nods. "The river's spirit. Once, she helps us, watched over us, cared for us in our times of need."

"And now?" Toph asks.

"Now…? Well, let's just say that the spirits have long since abandoned us." He turns his head slowly, looks at my chin once again. "Only a miracle could bring them back."

_She squeezes my hand…_

_ I squeeze back…_

_ My scar aches and aches and aches…_

We cross without incident, and after all thank Ishida, we mount up and prepare to go. As I swing into the saddle, though, his gnarled hand shoots out, seizes the bridle in an iron grip. I look down, down into pleading eyes, big as plates.

"Yes?" I ask, my voice calm and cool, even as conflict and confusion rise up my throat.

He looks at me for a long time. Tears brim in his eyes, and his hands shake. Finally, he says two words, two words that rock me to my core.

"_Save us._"

Then, without another word, he releases his hold, turns, and walks back into darkness.

We sit there on our saddles, and watch him slowly pole away.

"We should do something." Aang's voice is filled with a cold fury I've never heard in him before.

"We _are_ doing something," Sokka points out, though his voice is flat, lacks any kind of conviction.

"I mean, something right _now_." Aang smacks a fist into his palm to make his point. We stares at us, looks wildly from one to the other, until he settles on me. "You know I'm right, Zuko."

My reply is barely a whisper. "Of course you're right, but it doesn't matter. There's nothing we can do."

Aang's face twists with fury. "_Nothing we can do?!_ That's…that's…_that's just not true._ There's _always_ something we can do!"

"_Like what?!_" Katara's voice cracks through the night like a whip. "Like fucking _what_, Aang?"

Aang splutters and fumbles. "Well…just…_something_. Sokka, you have any ideas?"

Sokka shrugs. "Don't look at me. Zuko and Katara, as much as we all might hate it, are right. What _can_ we do right now?"

"Continue with the fucking mission, that's what we can do." With that, Katara wheels her ostrich-horse off into the darkness, and we follow, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast, looking anywhere but back. No one says a word to each other until we finally stop to sleep, and even then, we avoid each other's eyes.

I can't sleep. I lay in darkness, the only light the cigarette in my hand. A form moves, soft and quiet. Hair rustles in the night, and a warmth spreads as the form slides under my blanket beside me. Katara molds herself to me, buries her face in my chest. Dampness spreads into my shirt. I toss the cigarette away, roll onto my side, take her in my arms, bury my face in her hair. My eyes burn. My scar aches. I'm not entirely sure who's holding whom.

"_I want to go back,_" she whispers.

"_Me, too_," I whisper back. "_Don't you just hate it when Aang's right?_"

She sniffles. "_Yeah. It fucking __**sucks**__._" She looks up at me. Tears glisten in the moonlight. I touch her face. Her fingers slip around my neck, entwine themselves in my hair.

_We're very close…_

We never settle who kisses whom, but we will always agree that it lasts a very long time, or, at least, _it seems to_. When we finally part, we're both gasping for breath. If her brother hadn't been not three feet away, gods only know what would've happened.

We hold each other all through the night. We don't sleep. _We can't._ We're too afraid to dream, too afraid to think, that close to the river, the river that stopped being a river a long time ago. Rivers are supposed to bring life; that thing behind us brings only death.

In the morning, all are tired. We want to sleep. We want to rest.

_We want to go back._

We ride on. We must. Time is of the essence, and in Shu Jing lie the answers that can save the land behind us. We simple have no choice.

_No choice…_

The next night, when everyone is asleep, Katara slips under my blanket again. Rare is the night ever after where she doesn't.

And on, all through the days that follow, through miles of despair and desperation, we ride.

* * *

_The Painted Lady_ is another episode that I _**really**_ wanted to do, but once again, the more I wracked my brain about it, the more I realized that it just didn't fit. This was the closest I could get. It's another killer episode, but one that only really works in the Canon universe, with cartoon logic to hold it together. I've spent the past twenty-three chapters taking a giant shit on cartoon logic; there's no way I can go back now.

So, as I said, I've fucked with the geography. Hopefully, I've explained it alright. Shu Jing, where Piandao lives, is just on the northern end of that little strip that connects the two halves of the Fire Nation. That's where we're headed, and where we get some answers. Yes, Piandao is here; in a way, _Sokka's Master_ will survive my axe. I'm glad; I really liked that episode, too.

Indeed, never forget that I'm writing this because I dig the show. Yeah, I take the piss out of it a lot, but I wouldn't bother if I didn't care about it. It's kind of like the _Star Wars_ Prequels; we wouldn't bitch about them if we didn't care, and for us to care, there has to be something to get us invested.

A final note about my picture of the Fire Nation: As previously established, I'm a History teacher, or, at least, a History major, with a horrendously over-priced education. I tend to use it in everything I write, and this is no exception. The picture I paint of the Fire Nation is basically Japan during the thirties and forties, only with the directions switched. It also works with both China (north rich, south pour), Russia (west rich, east poor), and Italy (north _very rich_, south basically a Third World country). You'd be amazed at the differences one can encounter just traveling from one part of a country to another, especially when that country is in the midst of a draining, crippling war.

In the next chapter, we arrive in Shu Jing and begin a brief interlude with Master Piandao. Woo!


	25. Chapter 25

25. IT TAKES THREE WEEKS TO REACH SHU JING. It's a small village, only a few thousand people, resting in a thinly wooded valley just past the northern end of the isthmus connecting north and south. Summer is sliding into fall, and the world is a riot of green and red and gold. The days are shorter and the nights colder, and the autumn rains are beginning to make themselves known. We ride into the valley after sunset, in a haze of soft, warm rain. It's been raining all day; our sodden clothes cling to our bodies, and water drips from the hoods of our ponchos. The ostrich-horses feet make sucking sounds in the mud, and our party projects an air of sullen misery. The ride up the isthmus was long and harrowing; we dodged patrols by the skin of our teeth more than once. By the time we finally arrive at our destination, we're soaked, tired, and dirty; rain drops cut furrows through the grime on our skin. Even Aang is silent.

Our goal is a modest villa halfway up the valley wall, overlooking the village below. In the light of day, it's quite breathtaking; I know because I've seen it thus, when I came to train here at fifteen. The sun touches the white stone walls in a blinding flash, and everywhere there are details of red and gold to sparkle in the daylight. In the rain, though, it only looks drab and cold. It matches our mood.

A narrow road takes us through the village and up to the villa. In the village, bored old men smoke and watch us from sheltered porches, and a few mangy dogs glare as we pass. Past the edge of the village, the road turns into a muddy track, winding and weaving, water running in rivers down the sides. Two men carry swords and spears detach themselves from the road and block our path. Katara rides up to them, Toph huddled against her back, fast asleep. We watch in silence as Katara exchanges words with the men, who both nod and look towards the rest of us. One man peels off, comes towards me. My hands tighten on my reins, and we all sit up in our saddles. The ostrich-horses sense the sudden tension, neigh and grumble. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sokka slip his hand inside his poncho, down where the dagger rests on his belt, his eyes firmly focused on the man approaching me. I turn my attention to the man, a dripping wet grey form squelching through the mud. He reaches me, stops, bows.

"Apologies, sir, but may I ask you to remove you hood for a moment?"

I nod, reach up, slide back my hood, turn my face so he can see my scar. He examines me closely, eyes narrow, before bowing again.

"Apologies again, your majesty, but one can't be too careful these days."

I nod, slide my hood back into place. "I agree, sir, I agree. May we enter? Is Master Piandao home?"

He bows again. "He is, your majesty. He awaits you in the main hall. Now, if you'll excuse me." He bows once more, trudges up to the gate. He raises a fist, raps out a rhythmic knock. There's a pause, and a soft tapping is heard from the other side. Our man knocks again, twice slow, twice fast, and then steps back as the sound of a heavy bar sliding aside comes through the gate. The gate opens, slow and deliberate. Our guards turn to us, bow a final time, and motion us inside.

As soon as the gate closes behind us, we dismount, stretching to a chorus of _pops_ and _cracks_. Toph lands in the mud with a sigh of pleasure, wiggling her toes in the muck. "_Ah_," she says, "that's better."

Sokka rolls his eyes. "You're insane, Toph. You know that, right?"

Toph laughs. "You just now noticed?"

"Weren't you just asleep?" Aang asks, a perplexed look on his face. "As in, snoring away on the back of Katara's saddle? I'm pretty sure I heard snoring."

Toph turns to me, winks. "What can I say? I wake up easy." Katara and I heave mental sighs, declining the bait. I turn to a young man who has appeared before me. He's tall and thin, about Katara's age, it seems, and underneath his poncho, arm creaks and groans, while his hand rests on a sword at his waist. He bows, and I bow back. "My name is Kodaira," he says, voice solemn and professional. "I am to take you to Master Piandao."

"My friends and I thank you, Kodaira." I look up and around, see men pacing the walls, others strolling up and down the lanes between the buildings. To the side of the gate, a low building rests, doors open. From within come clouds of smoke and the unmistakable sounds of weapons being polished and sharpened. I turn back to Kodaira. "Is Master Piandao expecting trouble?"

Kodaira shakes his head. "No, your Grace, no more than usual."

"How many men does Master Piandao have here?" Sokka asks, his eyes following the same routes mine had.

"About a hundred," Kodaira answers, "mostly students, former pupils, and men from the village." The young man smiles broadly. "Master Piandao has trained and picked us all himself."

"Then I, for one, will sleep better tonight." I look once more over the scene. "Shall we head inside?"

Kodaira bows once more. "Of course, your majesty." He turns to two men standing behind him. "Nishi! Katayama! Take care of the ostrich-horses, and bring the baggage inside." The two men – boys, really, I realize when they come forward, probably students – bow and move towards the mounts. As they lead them away, Kodaira returns his attention to us, spreading out an arm. "If you'll follow me this way, your majesty, lords, ladies, we'll get you dry and fed."

We follow, Katara and I in front, the others behind. From the back, I hear Aang's voice, a whisper. "_Lords?_ We're not lords, Sokka."

"Psh, speak for yourself," is Sokka's response.

"Besides," says Toph, "it's just courtesy. We _are_ in the company of the fucking future Fire Lord."

"Well," Aang, huffs, "it's weird. I'm not sure I like it."

"You don't have to," Toph replies. "Besides, you're the Avatar, and I'm nobility, and Sokka digs it, so it works."

"Yeah, but Katara's not nobility."

"_Not yet_," Toph mutters.

"What's that supposed to me?" Aang asks, a confused tone in his voice.

"Nothing!" Toph says, innocently, before barking, "Now, can it, we're here."

We were; we almost collapsed with relief as the doors closed behind us. The main hall is large, spacious, and, most importantly, warm, comfortable, _dry_. The hall itself is a treat for sore eyes. Piandao's taste in art and architecture is known worldwide, and for a reason. The others are awe-struck, even Toph, who finds the marble floor to be delightfully smooth and pleasant to the touch. I myself take a few moments to admire our surroundings. No matter how many times I have been here, I never get tired of looking at it.

A voice, strong and booming, captures our attention. "Welcome, my friends!" A tall figure strides down the hall towards us. He bows, we bow back. Master Piandao has arrived.

Piandao is a tall, muscular man, fit and healthy, with coal-black hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Age has done nothing to soften him; his stance is as straight, his shoulders as broad, his bearing as regal as ever. He is every inch the soldier, neat, tidy, nothing out of place, immaculately clean and maintained. Though his home is alive with beauty and art, he himself is plainly dressed, wearing long, simple, dark-colored robes and no jewelry. The sword at his waists is similarly unadorned; Piandao has always believed that a sword should speak for itself. Everything about him gives off an aura of efficiency and power. Even his smiles are tight and controlled. Only his eyes sparkle, with warmth for his friends and death for his enemies.

I am very glad to have him on my side.

_Thank you, uncle…_

Piandao greets each of us in turn, taking an extra moment with Aang, who beams under the attention. Piandao then steps back, hands clasped behind him, and sighs. "That, I think, is more than enough pleasantries. We have much to discuss, but first, I think a bath, a meal, and a good night's sleep are in order."

"Fuckin' A!" Toph shouts, fists pumped in the air.

Piandao smiles, chuckles. "I assume that Lady Bei Fong speaks for you all?"

"Heh…you may indeed, Master," I reply, bowing my head. The truth is more than that; to be honest, we're all dead on our feet.

He bows back. "Very well. Ladies, gentlemen, if you'll follow me…"

The men bathe in a large, communal tub, sunk into the ground. The room is quite spacious, obviously meant for the students who live, work, and learn here. The water is hot and refreshing, leaching the dirt and the mud and the grime from my skin. I feel about ten pounds lighter; I swear, I can almost _feel_ each pore as it unclogs and lets fresh air into my skin. About a half-hour in, two students enter. One carries towels and cigarettes, while the other carries a bottle of fire whiskey and three glasses. Sokka and I gasp with joy, and before long, we're merely puffing away, sipping whiskey like true gentlemen. We offer a glass to Aang, but he waves it away, leading Sokka to grin madly and say, "Hey, more for us!" We both clinked glasses to that.

By the start of the third glass, I am finally beginning to feel like a normal human being. I am warm and relaxed, clean and refreshed. My muscles feel like jelly, and the whiskey flows through my veins, spreading a hot tingly sensation wherever it goes. I close my eyes, slump down, just kind of _drift_, until Aang says my name.

I open my eyes as little as possible. "Hmm…?"

"You know that _snap-light_ trick you do?"

"You mean this?" I demonstrate, deriving a great degree of satisfaction from the act.

Aang nods. "Yeah, that. Katara really likes it, doesn't she?"

"Mmhmm."

"Can you show me how?"

"Sure, it's not hard." I move my cigarette to the hand holding the whiskey, raise my now free hand above the water. "It's really just about getting all the moving parts in sync." I fold my hand into a snapping form, middle finger held out by my thumb. "Focus the flow of energy into your thumb, and when you're ready, just _snap_." I do so, and, in a flash, a small flame balances on my thumb. I wave it out, motion towards Aang. "You try. Focus on the snap, first; it's not as impressive without a good snap sound."

Aang diligently practices snapping, trying several times until he gets a sound that satisfies him. "So, how do I get the flame to just pop out of my thumb? That seems to be the hardest part."

"It's all about focus, like I said. Just concentrate, let the energy flow into your hand, then your thumb. Think about how you firebend normally. You marshal the body's internal heat and energy, focus it to a specific point, picture things in your mind, and _bam_, firebending."

Aang tries it a few times. "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that, it seems."

I shrug. "Everything is, but this is one of those tricks that it's important not to over-think."

Aang nods, focusing on his hand. "And Katara will like this?"

Sokka stirs. _Barely_. "Why does it matter?"

Aang frowns. "It just does."

"Meh," Sokka mumbles. "I'd let the firebending smoker handle the cool cigarette lighting techniques."

I cast an eye towards Sokka. "You think it's cool?"

"Sure. You ever tried to light a smoke from a flint? It fucking sucks, man. Your method is _way_ better."

"Heh…thanks, man."

"Don't mention it. Just make sure that that's the _only_ trick you perform for my sister."

Aang furrows his brow. "Why would Zuko be doing other tricks for Katara?"

Sokka opens his eyes (_barely_), gives Aang a long, inquisitive look. "Nevermind," he mutters, before closing his eyes again."

Aang's not having it, though. "No, really, what does that _mean?_ You and Toph keep making all these weird cracks and everything…"

Sokka sighs, sips his whiskey, still doesn't open his eyes. "No, really, Aang, _nevermind_. It's not a big deal, and, let's face it, while we're on the subject, you need to drop your little crush on my sister anyways."

Aang's eyes go wide. "What? I mean…I don't…there's no…" He shakes his head clear. "And even if I _did_ have a crush on Katara, why should I drop it?"

"Besides the age difference?"

"Yeah, _besides_ that. I mean, she's single, right?"

"Ehhh…"

"I mean, she can't still be hung up on Jet, right?" He turns to me. "What do you think, Zuko?"

I shrug. The conversation has veered into strange territory, and I'm kind of done with it. "Leave me out of this."

Aang arches an eyebrow. "Well, you _must_ have an opinion. Don't you like Katara?"

I hid my smile behind my whiskey. "Sure," I mutter. "Who wouldn't? I mean, she's smart, strong, brave," _a great kisser_, "caring, compassionate, level-headed…what's not to like?"

"And beautiful!" Aang smiles, as if he just won a victory. "You forgot beautiful."

I shrug. "No, I didn't. It's just not why I like her."

"What do you mean?"

I polish off my glass, grab the bottle, pour another. "Like Sokka said, it doesn't matter." _Well, it does, but this is neither the time nor the place._

"Well, what _does_ matter, then?"

"Food," Sokka offers without hesitation (and with his eyes still closed). "And then, sleep."

"What about the war? The invasion?"

Sokka waves them away. "We'll deal with that bullshit in the morning, when I've fully expunged the memory of this conversation from my mind."

"Well…we have to talk about _something_…"

"Says who?"

"We can't just sit in _silence_."

"I wouldn't call it _silence_," Sokka says, having at no point opened his eyes. "Think of it more along the lines of…_meditation_."

I snort. "_Sokka meditating. _Now, there's a sight I'd like to see."

"What if I don't _want_ to meditate?" Aang huffs.

"We can always talk about the girl who got Sokka to put on make-up and a skirt," I offer.

Sokka groans. "I'm going to fucking _kill_ my sister, swear to the gods…"

"Is the language necessary?" Aang asks.

"What's necessary," I say, "is that Sokka tell us what wearing a skirt is like."

Sokka grins. "Not all that bad, really. It's quite comfortable, once you get used to it, and it definitely has its advantages."

"So, we're not going to settle this Katara thing?" Aang asks.

"Agni no," I say, turning to Sokka. "Go on, my friend."

Sokka's grin grows wider. "Well…"

* * *

Hey, look, it's Master Piandao! Woo!

Another chapter where we mix business with pleasure. We get the serious shit at the beginning, then take a detour into a hot tub. I like the idea that Zuko and Sokka have become _buddies_, and I enjoy writing them as such, with Aang as the endearing, if slightly annoying little brother kind of tagging along. If anyone's curious how I'm going about writing Aang, I'm basically just writing myself at fifteen. I was a pretty level-headed and put-together teenager, but I was still a weird little shit. I think that's a problem many fifteen-year-olds have, no matter how _mature_ they may be compared to their peers.

I also like the idea that Zuko and Katara _ain't hidin' shit_, and that Aang's just the only one who hasn't cottoned on, because he's Aang, and even in Canon, he was always pretty oblivious. Plus, he's got goo-goo eyes for the older girl in the class, and it's hard for him to see past that sometimes. In case anyone is curious, why isn't Sokka doing his whole, _crazy over-protective brother_ thing, like he does in Canon and just about _every goddamn fanfic ever?!_ Well, because these are big kids, adults, if you remember. Adults don't typically do that shit. Besides, my Katara wouldn't tolerate that bullshit from her brother, and this is also supposed to be Sokka 2.0, with less misogyny. Also, he digs Zuko.

One last note: Why all the bowing? Because, in my mind, the Fire Nation is Japan, and in Japan, especially before the West came along, people didn't shake hands, they bowed. This was also the case throughout East Asia; even today, most people still work like that, especially when Westerners aren't around. So, just get used to the bowing.

I think that covers it all…keep reading, and keep tossing me those reviews! That shit is crack for me!


	26. Chapter 26

26. WE EAT IN A SMALL ROOM WITH PIANDAO. The fare is simple, but filling. By mutual agreement, table talk is confined to trivial, inconsequential things. None has either the energy or desire to speak on more weighty subjects. All Piandao will confirm at this point is that he has the information we seek, and will give it to us in full in the morning, after breakfast. Other than that, conversation revolves around discussion of Sokka's three weeks in a skirt on Kyoshi Island, the time that Toph and Katara crash an exclusive party in Ba Sing Se, and Aang's apparently never-ending quest to convert all present to vegetarianism. Piandao shares a tale of my year at his school, when I was fifteen and thus, _stupid_. The tale is mostly embarrassing for me, but hysterical for the others (though I guess it was a _little_ funny…). Throughout, we smoke and we drink (except for Aang, of course), until all are more than a little silly and giggly.

Our last order of business is to set up the briefing. Piandao agrees to brief us all, together; Aang and I insist on this. We agree on a time, then head to bed.

We take up three rooms, Toph and Katara to one, Aang and Sokka to another. I get my own; I don't like this, but Piandao insists. As he explains it, if I'm to be the Fire Lord, then I had best start getting used to what that means. In this case, it means my own room and two guards on the door. I object to it all, but I know when I'm beaten.

I should enjoy it, really. I know this, in that rational corner of my brain, down amongst all the doubts and the worries. The bed is large and soft, the room spacious, clean, tidy. It smells freshly washed, and a cool breeze blows in through the window when I open it. I stand there, smoking, listening to the rain beat down on the world beyond. Below me, the valley sleeps, the village dark and quiet. The rooftops rattle, and thunder rumbles in the distance. When I was a boy, rainy days were my favorites. I'd open all the windows and sprawl in bed, listening to the rain shake the world outside. The set-up is perfect, perfect for a night of rest and sleep, sleep without dreams. And yet…

_And yet…_

It's been over four years since I last slept in a room alone. I feel lonely, exposed. The room feels…_empty_, somehow, like an apartment before a move. I miss my friends, even the parts I normally hate. I miss Sokka's snores and Aang's tossing and turning and Appa's groaning and Toph's mumbling and I miss…

I miss…

_I miss…_

_ Tap-Tap-Tap!_

I turn towards the door, say, "It's open!" It swings in, and a helmeted head pokes through. It's one of my guards, a boy named Muto. "Yes, Muto?" I ask.

"Pardons, your Grace, but the Lady Katara is here to see you. Shall I send her away?"

My heart leaps into my mouth, beating madly. I'm sure my eyes fly wide, but I can't be sure. I suddenly feel very warm. I force a smile. "The Lady Katara is _always_ to be admitted, Muto, without question."

Muto dips his head. "Of course, your Grace." He starts to turn back to the hallway when I think of something.

"And Muto?"

He turns back. "Yes, your Grace?"

"Let's keep this between us, if you don't mind?"

He swallows a smile, winks. "Of course, your Grace." He bows his head, speaks to someone in the hall, and before I know it, Katara is in my room.

_I never even notice the door click shut…_

"So," she says, breezing into the room, "there I am, tossing and turning, mumbling and grumbling, and you know what Toph says?"

I swallow the lump in my throat, watching her twist and swirl through the room. "Gods only know."

"Heh…" She bites her lip, and I'd be lying if I tried to say I didn't swoon a little. "So, Toph rolls over, and she barks, I shit you not, _Just go sneak into Zuko's bed already, before I toss you in there._"

"That," I say, chuckling, "sounds like Toph."

"_Right?!_ I didn't even bother to deny it, just got up and came straight here."

"You didn't really _sneak_, though."

"Why sneak? I mean, if we're trying to hide something, we're doing a real shit job."

"Aang hasn't noticed."

"Well…that's Aang. He hadn't even gotten _The Talk_ before he got frozen in ice."

"_What?!_ You're shitting me."

"It's true! Sokka had to sit him down and spell it out. My poor brother, trying to remember how our father phrased it. I don't think Aang slept for a we-"

She stops. I've grabbed her wrist, not hard, just enough to stop her twirling. She's been spinning and twirling, touching and fiddling, all over the room. We're face-to-face. I feel her pulse thumping in her wrist. _Is my heart beating that fast?_ I don't know. I can barely feel it anymore. I can barely feel anything. All that exists is the warmth of the stunning woman not more than a few inches from me. She's beautiful. She's only wearing a thin pull-over, falling down to her shins and almost see-through. With a jolt, I realize I've been shirtless this whole time. _Where is this going? What's happening?_

_ Like I don't know…_

"Hey, Katara?"

"Hmm…?"

"Are we a thing?"

"Heh…I thought you knew…"

"Just checking. I know how you like to be first."

"You're learning!"

"I learn fast."

"I'm sure."

I release her wrist, wrap my arms around her, reach up, run my hands through her hair. Her hands run flat, all over my chest. I'm very hot. I feel like I'm burning up. Blood roars in my ears. She is almost scalding in my arms. She pops up, brushes her lips against my ear.

"Hey, Zuko?"

"Hmm…?"

"I like you."

"Heh…I like you, too. Hey, Katara?"

"Hmm…?"

"Do you _really_ have to always be first?"

She bites my ear. "_Always._"

I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I know an order when I hear one, and I'm not at all ashamed to say that _that_ was a command I followed _to the letter_. And when we finally slept, it was without being troubled by dreams.

* * *

In case you missed it, we just got Zutara boning. Woo! If you were hoping for graphic sex, well…I said in my story description that there wouldn't be any, and I'm sticking to that. I don't have a thing against graphic sex scenes, I really don't; even the poorly written ones can be fun to read. The thing is, _I fucking suck at writing those_. I always feel like I'm imposing my idea of what's alluring and sexual upon the reader, and besides, at heart, I'm still a little kid, and typing _penis_ makes me giggle. If I can't write a sex scene without giggling, then I shouldn't be writing one at all. And besides, I much prefer to leave things up to your imagination. I trust you guys, and I believe you can fill in the blanks much better than I could.

That's really it for this chapter. Hope you enjoyed!


	27. Chapter 27

27. SOMEONE IS SHAKING ME AWAKE. It's very dark. Rain continues to drizzle outside. The room is very cool, very comfortable. I'm on my side, under covers. I feel groggy and confused. Katara is pressed tight against me, the proverbial _little spoon_, my arms around her. A voice whispers in the darkness. _Your majesty…your majesty…_ I turn, roll over slightly Muto looms over me in the gloom.

"_Muto…?_" My voice is thick and heavy in my throat. I feel like I could sleep for years. "_What is it…?_"

He dips his head. "Many apologies, but my shift is over. I was wondering if the young lady wished to be escorted back to her room. Before your companions wake up." He leans closer. "_You did mention wishing to keep this private._"

I nod my head, not fully comprehending. It takes a few moments for my sleep-and-sex-addled brain to catch up. When everything finally clicks into place, I realize that the man has a point. I roll back over, shake Katara. She groans, rolls over, buries her face in my chest. "_Mmm…?_"

"Hey, Muto's here, he wants to know if you need an escort to your room, before everyone wakes up."

She burrows deeper. "_'S my room now…_"

I chuckle, turn back to Muto. "Go get some sleep, Muto. And thank you."

He bows. "Thank you, your Grace, and it's no problem." As he leaves, I turn back to Katara, shake her some more.

She's not particularly happy about it. "_Wanna __**cuddle**__…_"

"Heh…me, too, but we do need to decide how much drama we're in the mood for today."

She opens her eyes for that, though just barely. Her hair is a complete mess; it's all over the place. "Drama…?"

I lean down, kiss her forehead. "Yes, _drama._"

"_Ugh_." She heaves herself up in the bed, holding the covers to her chest as she brushes hair off her face. "I don't like drama…"

"Who does? But there _is_ the potential for this to cause drama."

She shrugs, reaches over to the night stand, retrieves two cigarettes. "Only if we let it." She hands one to me, leans over to let me light hers. She takes a long, deep drag. "Besides, how much drama could there really be? Toph's going to be cracking wise no matter _when_ I stroll back to our room."

I nod. "True, true…what about Sokka?"

"Psh. He can go eat a dick. _I_ never cross-dressed to get in someone's pants."

"Heh…you've definitely got him there. What about Aang?"

She makes a face. "_Blergh._ Still, if he's not wise by now, he never will be, and even if I _walk of shame_ it back to my room today, he'll catch on eventually."

I pop an eyebrow. "So, we're doing this again?"

"Fucking _duh_. Objections?"

"Nope. So, we're going to pass on the whole _secret relationship_ thing?"

"Zuko, that ship has _so _sailed. Let's just keep rolling with the whole, _don't hide, but don't advertise_ thing we've already got going on."

I mull that over. "Sounds fair to me."

There's a pause, while she contemplates her cigarette. "And you know what? We're grown-ass adults. So, no, I'm not going to spend whatever time we have left skulking in and out of your bed."

"I could always skulk into _your_ bed, even shit out."

"Gods no. For one thing, this this is wicked comfortable, and for another, I'm going to have to eat enough shit from Toph _as is_, the last think I wanna do is listen to her snicker as we sexile her."

"Heh…that would be entertaining…"

"For my brother, maybe, but not for us." She leans over, stubs her cigarette out in a convenient ashtray. "So, now that _that's_ settled, we have to deal with the fact that I'm wide awake now."

"Oh?" I stub out my own cigarette. "And how is that _my_ problem?"

"Well, _obviously_, it's your fault, so you are going to have to put me back to sleep."

"Is that an order?"

"Oh, far be it for this _peasant_ to order around the Fire Lord."

"And yet, it sure _sounded _like an order."

"Well, I can't help how you hear things."

"I believe you can."

"Oh, shut the fuck up and kiss me."

She finally went back to her room two hours later, mostly because all of her things were there. We didn't get any extra sleep, though.

* * *

So, the purpose of this was two-fold. One, post-coital small talk is always fun to write. It's one of my favorite parts of sex in real life, so I always enjoy trying to accurately depict it. Two, I really wanted to firmly establish that this isn't just a _ship_, but a fictional portrayal of a _relationship_. These are two people with a lot in common, who have grown together, and really dig the hell out of each other, in a very adult manner. That was always my main issue with the Canon pairings; by the end, it felt like they were just tossing people into a bowl and stirring into as many people as possible were somewhat satisfied. So, yeah, I spent a lot of time developing this relationship (mostly in the background of my general story), and now it can start to pay off in a way I hope everyone finds satisfying. Plus, it's fun for me to show my idea of Katara, as someone who doesn't just hopelessly swoon over the pretty men around her, but, you know, _goes and gets what she wants_, like a normal adult woman.

Oh, and I also wanted to show how I'm just not going to bother with this whole _Zutara Secret Relationship_ trope that exists in the fandom. I'll admit, it's fun, but my characters just won't have time for it. They've got a lot of crap to do.

For anyone curious about the term _sexile_, it's something we used to say in college. Basically, it's what you call it when a roommate needs to get laid, and boots out the other roommate. I doubt my friends and I invented the term, but it was something we used to say. So, there you go.

In the next chapter, we have a briefing, and we return to the main story. Woo!


	28. Chapter 28

28. WE HAVE BREAKFAST IN PIANDAO'S STUDY. The whole gang's there, arrayed around a low table. It's a cozy fit; the room is modest in size, and the walls are covered with bookshelves and maps. Behind Piandao, a big map of the northern part of the Fire Nation has been tacked up, with several markers and pins. Sokka and Aang are the last to arrive, which appears to be mostly Sokka's fault. The boy snored like a dragon all night, and neither of them are moving very fast. While we wait, the rest of us sip tea and make small talk. Katara rests her hand lightly on my inner thigh, while Toph softly hums one of the bawdy songs my crew taught her. Piandao tries hard not to laugh. It appears that Katara was correct in assuming that the _secrecy ship_ was, indeed, long departed. Even Sokka seems resigned. He kneels at a place at the table, takes one look at Katara and I, processes how close we're sitting (our shoulders are actually pressed tight against each other), rolls his eyes, and signs into his tea cup.

Not that any of it makes a dent on Aang. The kid seems completely in the dark. It's oddly endearing, in some strange, vaguely fucked up way. Even as he yawns, he's bright, cheerful, bubbly oblivious. "So, how did everyone sleep?"

"Like a baby, sweet and innocent," Toph replies.

Aang turns to Katara. "And you? Toph's sleep-talking didn't bother you too much?"

Katara smiles. "Oh, no, Aang, not at all. It was like I was far away."

"In another room, practically," Toph says.

"_I __**bet**_," Sokka grumbles.

"Huh?" Aang blurts out, a little lost.

Piandao clears his throat. "Well, now that _that's_ all settled, ladies and gentlemen, we may begin."

I bow my head. "If you would be so kind, Master."

He bows back. "Of course. Now, before we go any further, I wish to lay your mind at ease on at least one matter: Your uncle is alive, and we now where he is. I won't lie and say that he is well, but he remains strong and determined."

I let out a long sigh of relief, lay my hand on the one Katara has in my lap, squeeze it. She entwines her fingers in mine, squeezes back. "Thank you," I say, struggling to control my emotions. "That is…a relief. We despaired after our escape from Ba Sing Se."

"Is there a chance we can bust him out before the invasion?" Sokka asks. "We really owe it to both him and Zuko, and besides, having the _Dragon of the West_ in our corner would be a _huge_ boost."

Piandao shakes his head. "Sadly, no. Ozai seems to be well aware of that, and keeps General Iroh close wherever he goes."

"Anyone else getting tired of fighting a bad guy with a fucking brain?" Toph asks. We all mutter our assent to that.

"So, where _is_ Ozai going?" Aang asks.

"Here." Piandao points towards the northwestern coast of the Fire Nation. "There are two traditional places for the Royal Family to take shelter during an eclipse. One is in Miyako, beneath the Royal Palace, while the other is somewhere in the south. The state of the nation, however, has made both of those places untenable. The south is too unsettled, and Azula's tantrums have made the mood in Miyako very tense."

"My sister has had more…episodes?" I ask.

Piandao nods. "I'm afraid so. Reports indicate that he mental state is…well…_unstable_. She lashes out at the slightest pretext, and as often as not, leaves bodies in her wake." He lowers his eyes. "I am sorry, your majesty."

I nod, slow, stiff. My hand is squeezed; I squeeze back. "It's not your fault, Master." My voice catches in my throat.

_A sweet little girl…_

_ She loved books and songs…_

"Please, continue," Katara says, gripping my hand tight.

Piandao do so. "In light of these developments, our present Fire Lord began, sometime earlier this year, to seek out a new, more secure location. I was one of those consulted, which allowed me to make contacts that kept me in the loop. This allowed me to narrow the possible sites down to three."

"But you only mentioned one location at the beginning," Aang points out.

"This is true," Piandao says. "I soon had all three sites under observation. All three had things in common: Sparse population, isolated location, easily defensible approaches, things like that. Last week, we learned that all of the inhabitants of one location were being forcibly evacuated. None were being told why, and any who protested were killed on the spot. My scouts report that the area is now crawling with Royal Guard, and there is much construction. Barracks, fortifications, you name it. Most importantly, though, is _this._"

He reaches under the table, pulls out a rolled up map. We clear our plates and tea cups, watch as Piandao spreads out the map. The map shows a long peninsula, jutting out into the sea. According to the elevation marks, the land rises slowly until it reaches the tip of the peninsula, where it ends in a sheet of sheer cliffs. Piandao points at the end of the peninsula.

"_That _is where Ozai will be."

The room falls silent. We all lean forward, look at the map, see our destinies etched among the squiggles and the characters. It's a simple map, really, plain, unadorned, utilitarian. There are no frills. It's really nothing special. Nothing special at all.

_And yet…_

All seem to realize that we could be looking at our graves. Even Toph seems to lose nothing of the moment. She reaches out, runs her fingers lightly over the parchment. She takes a deep breath, lets it out, shaky, trembling. She pulls her hand back, rubs it, as if burned. Sokka rubs his chin, studies the map intensely. Katara traces the elevation lines with one hand, muttering to herself as she grips my hand with the other. Aang is silent, slumped.

_My scar aches…_

"My father has chosen well," I finally say.

Piandao nods. "Yes, he has."

"How many men are going to be there?" Katara asks.

"Most of the Royal Guard. At least three-thousand men or so."

"No regular troops?" I ask.

"No," Piandao says. "You father doesn't trust them."

"Should he?"

"Well…just the other day, a regiment refused to board transports for the Earth Kingdom. It took a slew of executions to get them on the ships. So…no. If I was your father, I would be wary."

"So," Katara says, biting her lip, "he's expecting us."

"They're expecting _something_, that's for sure," Sokka mutters. He looks to Piandao. "Will there be ships out at sea?"

"Some," Piandao answers, "at least a dozen, possibly more."

"And _good_ ships, too," I say. "Don't expect a flotilla of ships like mine."

Katara loosens her grip on my hand, tilts her head. "What're you plotting, Sokka?"

"I'm not sure…" Sokka turns to Piandao, bows. "Master, may I have a smoke? For concentration."

Piandao nods. "You man, young man."

"Many thanks." Sokka takes out the cigarette, lets me light it, puffs, silent, focused, for some time. He's halfway through before he snaps his fingers. "I've got it!"

"You have my attention, young man," Piandao says, smiling. We're all smiling, really; watching Sokka's brain work is always a pleasure, even when it's not going to produce something worthwhile.

_Except for Aang…_

_ Aang's not smiling…_

"So," Sokka says, "we'll face enemy on the ground and at sea, and we should assume an airship or two. How long will the eclipse last? Do we know?"

"At least an hour," Piandao answers, "but it will only be total for about fifteen minutes or so."

"But, firebenders will be weak the entire time."

"We'll start to lose power almost instantly," I answer.

"Right. So, for an hour, we have all the advantages. Zuko? What was it you told me sister that one time?"

"You're going to have to be more specific than that," Katara says.

"Whatever. When you guys discussed your dad's weaknesses?"

I think. "Something about how my father's greatest weakness was his arrogance."

"_Right_. See, this is classic arrogance. Hole up in an isolated spot, make us come to him, force us up one path, like that's all we can do."

I lean into the map. "And we'll never fight through close-packed Royal Guards in the neck of that peninsula."

"And even if Toph and I and the other benders can even the odds," Katara says, "we have to assume they'll be ready for that somehow."

Sokka stubs his cigarette out, smoke curling from his smile. "But what if we don't come up the neck?"

We all round on him, eyes wide.

_Except Aang…_

"Please, explain," Piandao requests.

The explanation is offered with characteristic Sokka style and flair, arms and hands flying about, face making all kinds of strange expressions. Normally, it would have had us in stitches. Today, though…

_We listen, and we listen well…_

"Follow closely, because I'm still thinking this through."

_We nod, we listen…_

_ Katara keeps hold of my hand…_

_ I keep hold of hers…_

_ We all listen…_

_ Except for Aang…_

"When we left, Dad had a thousand men, and he was hoping for at _least_ twice that if all went well. So, let's be conservative, hope for fifteen-hundred. Now, that number will include airbender's, waterbenders, _and_ earthbenders. If all goes well with Lobsang, we might even get a couple hundred from the Northern Water Tribes. Is that everybody?"

"My crew will be about fifty, seasoned fighters all," I say.

"And I will bring my hundred," offers Piandao.

Sokka nods. "So, let's say, all things being equal, we scrap up…_two-thousand_. Now, very in that group will be equal to the Royal Guard, but then, _they don't have to be_. Our benders will have to work double-time to even the playing field."

"Sometimes literally!" Toph says.

"Potentially, but none of that matters. Point is, we attack, on land and sea, use our benders, keep our enemy off balance. Zuko, you'll have to lead the charge on the neck, attract attention. At sea, my father leads what ships we've scrapped together. With waterbenders on board, it'll be a fair fight. Our airbender's will take care of the airships, or at least keep them busy. But all of this is a diversion." He extends a finger, lays it on the tip of the peninsula."

"While all of this is happening, _we scale the cliffs._"

He lets that sink in before continuing.

"We hit everywhere hard and fast. If we time it right, they'll be thrown off for a good little bit, and let's face it, seeing his exiled son wearing a crown and coming for his ass is _bound_ to scare the shit out of Ozai. So, while everyone's focused on the big show…"

"We scale the cliffs, storm the bunker, end the war." Piandao mulls his words, strokes his bear, and nods. "I must admit, young man, I am deeply impressed."

"We all are," Katara says.

"But can it work?" Toph.

"It's as likely to work as anything else." That's me.

"We've come this far, we _have_ to take any chance we can get." Katara again.

"There is no victory without risk. The greater the risk, the greater the victory." Piandao.

"But so is the chance for defeat…" Sokka, mumbling.

"Now, now, young man, none of that. We must only hope." Piandao, patting Sokka's back.

"You guys really think this can work?" Sokka, smiling.

"Better than anything _I_ could have come up with, or anything _any of us_ was in the process of coming up with," I say, reaching over and messing with his warrior's ponytail. Sokka laughs, swats me away. We're all smiling. Toph is bouncing with excitement. Katara and I are still gripping hands under the table, our arms entwined. Katara beams at her brother. Piandao is actually, truly, legitimately, _smiling_. We are giddy. We feel hope. _We feel free._

_ All except for Aang…_

* * *

So, this is it, guys, the battle-plan, so to speak. I really wanted to give this speech to Sokka. I felt bad over taking the original invasion plan away from him, so I needed to give him another chance to shine. And so, the stage is set. We'll spend a week at Piandao's, and then we'll be off. Hope everyone's ready.

For the curious, I'll go ahead and dash hopes of a love-triangle thing: Aang is _not_ quiet because of Zuko and Katara. Really, he hasn't even noticed. He's quiet because his friends are sitting around, casually discussing the deaths of thousands. He's still not okay with that. He's going to have to travel a long road in that regard; we're not going to cram that conflict in there at the end.

In the next chapter, Piandao gains a new pupil, and Sokka and Zuko have a buddy moment!


	29. Chapter 29

29. WE SPEND THE NEXT HOUR HASING OUT DETAILS. We set a date to depart, a week hence. It'll take at least that long to finish gathering supplies and men. From Shu Jing, we'll make straight for the rendezvous point. The hope is that, with Master Piandao at the lead, no one will think to question us. If things _don't_ go well, though…

_We'll have to fight…_

_ That might take longer…_

Outside, it's still raining; water streaks the windows and rattles the roof. Aang declines any company, wanders off into the house. Katara and I watch him go. I'm about to say something to her when Sokka appears beside me. "Hey, dude, can I talk to you for a bit?"

I shrug. "Sure." I look at Katara, who winks at me. I wink back, then follow Sokka back towards the study.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Well, two things. One, future Fire Lord or no, break my sister's heart, I break your face, deal?"

_Well, that was easy…_

"Deal," I say. I laugh. "Is that really the most _Big Protective Brother_ I'll get?"

Sokka shrugs. "Katara's a big girl; she can take care of herself. She made me accept that a long time ago. Still, there are forms to be followed, hence, the threat."

We pause at the door to the study. Piandao is still inside, looking over maps. We watch him for a moment.

"Fair enough," I say, "though, to be honest, I'm more afraid of her than I am of you."

"Heh…you learn fast, buddy."

"I try. So, what was the other thing?"

Sokka's face falls. He turns pale and nervous. He rubs the back of his neck, shifts from foot-to-foot. He clears his throat, fiddles with his clothes, clears his throat again. I reach out, concerned, lay a hand on his shoulder. "You alright, bud?"

He takes a deep breath, lets it out.

"I'm going to ask Master Piandao to take me on as a student. If I'm to lead a force up those cliffs, a spear won't do. I need to be better at swordfighting." He turns to me, face deadly serious. "Will you vouch for me?"

I grab his shoulders. "Of course I will." I squeeze his shoulders, let go. "In fact, I'll go you one better."

He blinks. "How do you mean?"

I graph his elbow, pull him into the study. "Come and see."

Piandao rises as we enter. He bows, we bow back. He smiles. "Think of another brilliant plan, young man?"

Sokka bows, kneels, head down. "Master Piandao, I humbly request that you take me on as a student. I will need all the knowledge I can possibly get, if I am to do my part in the struggle to come."

Piandao clasps his hands before him, eyes intently focused. He looks Sokka up and down, examining every inch of him. Out of nowhere, I'm fifteen again. My uncle stands behind me. I'm on my knees, head bowed. I'm the crown prince of the Fire Nation, _Heir to the Throne_, and yet, this _peasant_, so-to-speak, is looking at me like a cut of meat. _Your birth will mean nothing here_. Those were my uncle's words, not mine. They ring in my ears.

Piandao speaks. "You are a student of the sword, young man?"

"I try to be a student of all weapons, Master."

Piandao turns to me. "And what say you, your majesty?"

I hold my head up, speak clear, full, try to imitate my uncle. "My friend sells himself short, Master. I have taught him everything I know, and I myself attest that he is a natural swordsman."

Piandao arches an eyebrow. "_Everything you know?_"

I smile. "_**Everything.**_"

He turns back to Sokka. "Young man, do you know where Fire Lord Zuko learned _his_ swordsmanship?"

"From you," Sokka answers, eyes still down.

Piandao nods. "That is so. And _I _taught the young Fire Lord everything that _I _know. What say you, your majesty?"

"I believe that my friend Sokka has moved beyond teaching. I believe that he has reached the stage where refinement, practice, and experience are called for, not instruction."

"Hmm…how is his technique? His form?"

I smile. "I believe that it was _you_ who taught me that _The Way of the Sword_ is not about technique or form, but, rather, about passion, dedication, discipline." I move to Sokka, lay a hand on his shoulder. "These are qualities that my friend possesses in abundance."

Sokka coughs. "Well, I wouldn't go _that_ far…"

Piandao laughs. "Sword fighting is very different from, say, _table manners_, young man."

Sokka finally smiles. "_Thank the gods…_"

I look straight into Piandao's eyes. This is the moment. Gravity weighs heavily on every syllable. "Master, I nominate my friend for _The Trial_."

Sokka looks up, eyes wide. "_The what now?_"

Piandao sets his face in stone. "Before any student may graduate my school, they must past the Trial. They must forge a blade, and then use it in a match against me. If you meet my approval, you pass. Are you ready for this test?"

Sokka shakes his head. "Gods no."

I pat his shoulder. "Good. Neither was I. My uncle nominated me in the middle of dinner, when my mouth was full and I couldn't effectively argue."

"Heh…you pass?"

"Oddly enough, yes. And so will you."

Sokka nods, lowers his head again. "Well…then…I'll do my best."

Piandao smiles. "Then you're already halfway there, young man."

Sokka rises. Piandao bows. Sokka bows back. "I will see you six days hence, at sunrise. Fire Lord Zuko will help you practice, as is the sacred duty of he who nominates one to undergo the Trial. Your majesty, do you accept the charge?"

I bow. "I do."

Piandao smiles. "Very well, then. Until dinner, gentlemen."

We were several feet down the hall before Sokka finally reacted. Out of nowhere, he shoves me, lands several soft punches. I fight back, and we wrestle, laughing like school boys. Finally, out of breath, we embrace like brothers.

"I don't know whether to hug you or kill you!" he shouts, smiling.

"Well, one of those won't end in Katara drowning you in your sleep."

"True…I guess I'll stick to the hug."

We embrace again, then resume our walk, arms around each other's shoulders, spirits high and smiles wide.

"You know, this doesn't change what I said, right? About my sister."

"Does it at least make you amenable to your sister's choice? Or, at least, _more amenable?_"

"Well, I guess…"

* * *

Holy shit! A Saturday without updates! What's wrong with me! Some fucking thing, no doubt, because I should be updating, since I'm _still_ a good ten chapters ahead of you guys. Well, I'm going to try to throw up a few tonight. We'll see how that goes.

A couple comments. One, you guys are so awesome. I couldn't do what I'm doing without you. _Please_ keep being patient and enjoying what I do. When I started this, it was for my own amusement. It's still for my own amusement, but now it's mostly for you guys. So…I hope you keep enjoying what I'm doing, even as I fuck Canon up the ass. For the record, I didn't intend it to be this bad at the beginning. I just wanted to make Zutara work, and write a realistic Avatar series. It's all kind of snowballed from there.

Two, I keep getting positive PMs from some of you guys. That means a lot to me. I'll try to respond to them all.

Three, I'm a bit boozy tonight. If my author's notes start to get weird, that's why.

Four…well…keep staying with me. I appreciate it.

In the next chapter, Zuko and Aang have a bit of a tiff, but not for the reason you're thinking. Stay tuned!


	30. Chapter 30

30. THE RAIN FINALLY STOPS JUST AFTER LUNCH. The sun bursts out upon the world fierce and strong, and the world is soon heavy and humid. We are all inside, gathered in the practice hall. Sokka and I practice the sword under Katara's watchful eyes, while Toph lounges in a window sill, whistling to herself. We are taking a water break when Aang finds me.

"Zuko?"

I swallow a mouthful of water. "What's up, Aang?"

He shifts his feet around. "Think we could go outside, practice my firebending?"

I shrug. "Sure." I turn to Sokka. "You mind?"

"Not at all," Sokka says. He motions at the other students in the hall. "I'm sure one of them will work with me."

"No doubt." I turn back to Aang. "Let's go."

Aang nods, turns to Katara. "Wanna come watch?" His voice is light, expectant. He really does seem to think that a girl like Katara has nothing better to do than watch him. My mind flashes back to myself at his age. I feel for him.

Katara laughs. "_Fuck no_. It's _way_ too hot to go sit and watch you two hurl fireballs at each other."

"Yeah," Toph calls. "Hit us back when the sun goes down."

Aang's shoulders slump. "Oh…alright…"

I pat him on the back, direct him by the shoulders towards the door. "Hey, don't look so glum. Without Katara around, we can practice the _cool moves_."

Aang shrugs. "_I guess…_"

We practice in a wide open space, not far beyond the walls of the villa. The session goes for a good two hours. We practice and refine every move Aang knows, and then work on some new ones. He's finally mastered enough defensive moves to being working on his offense, though his lack of an aggressive spirit constantly hampers him. He never completes, he hesitates, he loses control. He deflects expertly; there, his moves are precise, accurate, fluid. The second I force him onto the attack, though, he becomes erratic, ragged, sloppy. If all he intends to do with firebending is defend himself, then why are we wasting each other's time? He should be working on earthbending with Toph, and I should be helping Sokka prepare for his Trial.

_Or anything else at all…_

He screw up yet another attack, and I've had enough. I deflect with ease, which shouldn't be the case when fighting the Avatar, and lower my hands. "What say we take a break?" I ask, strolling towards the waterskin we've laid in the shade.

He's worn, shoulders heaving, skin covered in sweat. We had abandoned shirts some time before. "Alright," he says, wiping his brow. He follows me into the shade, lowering himself to the ground beside me. I lean back against a tree, take a gulp of water, pass it to him. He takes several long drinks, wipes his mouth, passes the skin back to me. I drink, lay it down, take out a cigarette and light it. I smoke, and he thinks. I can really _feel_ him thinking, feel, hear, it's so forceful and loud. I smoke and I wait, I wait and I smoke, I smoke and I wait, _and still he says nothing_. He doesn't even make a _move_ to say something. I sigh, rub the bridge of my nose, decide to channel Katara.

"So, you gonna talk, or what?"

Aang shrugs. "Talk about what?"

"You tell me. There's a lot going on in that head of yours. I can hear the gears slipping from here."

He pulls his feet up, rests his chin on arms balanced on his knees. "Yeah…there's a lot going on in here, I suppose…"

"Well," I say, tossing away my spent cigarette, "if there's anyone who knows about over-thinking shit and feeling conflicted, it's me. So…if you wanna spill, feel free."

There's a long pause. The wind rustles the trees. The sun sparkles off the villa, makes the village below us sparkle in the distance. The whole valley seems to bend and sway with an invisible pulse. It's incredibly peaceful. One could almost forget that there even _was_ a war, somewhere out there in the world beyond.

_Almost…_

I pull out another cigarette, light it, take a long, slow drag. The smoke is curling from my mouth when Aang finally speaks.

"Do you actually believe this will work?"

"Of course I do."

"Really?"

"Sure. I have to. Now, as me if I _think_ it will work."

"Do you _think_ it will work?"

"I'm not sure. I'm really not. We have about a…maybe…one-in-ten shot, but we have to take it."

"So, you're going to risk thousands of lives on a one-in-ten shot?"

"No one's walking into this blind, Aang. Everyone knows what the score is. We all know how stacked the odds are."

"So…_why?_"

"_Because we have to try. _There's a chance to end it all, right here, right _now_. How can we pass it up? How can we let that go?"

"Because people will _die._"

"People are going to die anyways, Aang. The longer this war drags on, the more people will die because of it."

"So…you're going to kill people to save people. Don't you see how messed up that is?"

"Of course I do. I'm not saying you're wrong, Aang, but you're also not _right_."

"There's only one of the other, Zuko."

"I'm sorry you think that way."

Aang stands, walks out into the sun. He looks up, eyes closed. I watch him. I'm starting to forget what he looks like bald. A head of hair becomes him. He looks _normal._

Which is sad, because he's _not…_

_ He's the Avatar…_

I watch him, trying to wrap my mind around just what that means. My imagination fails me. The sheer size and weight of that responsibility is terrifying to imagine. He reaches up, wipes tears from his eyes. I try to picture a fourteen-year-old boy being told he will have to shoulder this immense burden, and my mind recoils at the sheer cruelty of it. I find myself thanking all the gods and the spirits that I only hold one nation's destiny in my hands.

_Oh, but the grace of Agni go I…_

And then, he ruins it. He speaks.

"Do you really realize what it is you're going to try to do, Zuko?"

I sigh, run my hand through my hair. "Of course I do, Aang. I'm going to try to kill my father, and potentially my sister. Whether I'm directly or indirectly involved, that's what's at stake here."

He turns towards me. "But don't you got how _wrong_ that is?"

I look away. _And I was just feeling sorry for him…_ "Let's not get into that, Aang. It has to happen, and you know that."

"But it _doesn't_ have to! That's what I'm trying to say! That's what I can't help but think, while you all sit in there and plot murder!"

I stand up, walk towards him. "But it _does_, Aang. You know it, but you refuse to recognize it. My father's a mad man, a murderous despot, who has done nothing but sow death and destruction in his wake. _He has to go down._"

"But that doesn't mean I have to kill him!"

"Fine, then someone else will, Aang, whether you like it or not. The world is not going to accept my father just…I dunno…_rotting away in a cell_."

"So the world will demand that I blot out evil with evil?"

"Yes! That's how the real world works sometimes, whether we like it or not."

We're screaming now, shouting, right into each other's faces. I'm seeing red. My fists clench. He's just as angry as I am, his eyes wide, his teeth flashing. The ache in my scar builds and builds and _builds…_

_ "Well, I don't like it!"_

_ "Fucking tough!"_

_ "I'm not going to kill him!"_

_ "Fine! Then I fucking will!"_

_ "Great! Then your dad will __**finally**__ be proud of you!"_

I blank. The world spins. I blink. Things come back into focus. My fist hurts. Aang's on the ground, his hand to his face, blood dribbling from his lip. Blood roars in my ears. My heart pounds. My scar feels like it's on fire. The world vibrates at the edges of my vision. Spots dance in my eyes. Aang's eyes are wide. All the anger is gone from his face. He's himself again. A deep loathing fills me.

_I want to scream…_

"Zuko…I…I didn't…" Tears well in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Save it." My voice growls, snarls, barks. "Just…fucking…_just fucking save it._" I turn on my heel and march away, snatching my shirt off the ground as I walk.

"Zuko!"

"Be here after lunch tomorrow, or I'll bust the other fucking side, too."

And then I'm gone.

_Even though I can't say for sure that he's wrong…_

_**Which doesn't make him right…**_

* * *

So, yeah, I'm still drinking, still writing, still typing. I wrote this shit a few days ago, while bored and substitute teaching. Don't be fooled, by the way; most of the time, subbing is a bitch, and you don't get _any_ free time. Sometimes, though, you get three movie days in a row, or three days of watching a student teacher teach the class, and you get to write. Thus, this.

One of the biggest problems I had with the series was that Aang could be a real dick-hole, but he never seemed to suffer for it. Everyone always ended up crawling to him, going, _Oh, you were right, I was wrong, __**sorry**_. Yeah, well, in my story, fuck that. Aang is a great kid, a genuine good person, but you know what? He's still fifteen, and sometimes a fifteen-year-old needs a punch to the jaw. Zuko just delivered one. In the next chapter, Aang suffers for it. Because he has to. _It's about time some Fanfic made him learn._

Also, I never liked how no one ever pointed out that just because Aang was right, didn't mean that he wasn't wrong. Right and wrong are much more complicated in the real world than we like to admit. I'm going to try to explore that in this story. The series had a real chance to look at that, but bailed. I'm going to see if I can fix that.

In the next chapter, Aang suffers a bit, and Zuko and Katara are cute. Enjoy!


	31. Chapter 31

31. AANG DOES END UP WITH THE OTHER SIDE OF HIS LIP BUSTERED, BUT NOT BY ME. Not long after I stormed off, feeling like a complete and utter ass but too angry to go back, Aang made the mistake of going to Katara for a friendly shoulder. The sound of her palm connecting with his face was heard all through the villa. Toph drags him outside and puts him through earthbending practice until he can barely walk. Sokka's so mad, he gathers his things and sleeps in the barracks with the other students. By dinner, Aang is desperate to apologize, but I'm still too mad to really speak to him, so, other than make clear that I shouldn't have hit him and I'm sorry for that, I ignore him.

That night, I'm staring up at the ceiling, the sound of the night loud and clear through the open window, when I say, "Agni, I feel like a twat."

Katara stops tracing patterns on my chest, props her head up on a raised hand, her hair spilling out behind her. "Why do _you_ feel like a twat?"

I sigh. "I feel childish. Shit, I'm _being_ childish. I mean, I'm the fucking adult here. What am I doing?"

She puffs a strand of hair off her face. "Well, yeah, but you have a right to be a little childish. Anyone would, after that boy's little stunt. And besides, you apologized for the punch. That's as much as you owe him."

I reach behind her, begin running my fingers through her hair. "Maybe…but don't you think we're being just a little bit…well…_mean?_"

She closes her eyes, lets out a soft sigh. She loves it when I play with her hair. "Of course we are, but that's…well…_kind of the point_." She lays her head back down into the crook of my shoulder. "I love Aang to pieces, I really do, _we all do_, but he's just _got_ to start learning that actions have consequences."

"He doesn't know that now?"

"Eh…he does, but he doesn't. He's developed this real bad habit of hopping on Appa and flying off before he has to really deal with things."

"Well, he _is_ fifteen…"

"He is, but he can't be fifteen forever. He's _got_ to grow up, and he's _got_ to start thinking before he opens his big mouth. It's the number one thing that's holding him back from being all that he can become, and I for one have just about had it." She lays her hand on my chest, begins tracing patterns again. "At the end of the day, he stepped _way_ over the line, and now he's going to suffer a little bit for it."

"Even if it was true…?"

She stops tracing. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

I sigh. "Rule over the Fire Nation has always been about strength. That's always been a big part of why my father never liked me: He thought I was too weak. So, to be honest, if I did succeed in overthrowing him and driving a sword through his heart, he _would_ be, in some weird, fucked up way, totally proud of me."

She blinks. "Wow. That's fucked up, babe."

"You're telling me."

"Does that bother you?"

I roll that around a bit. "A little. I mean, I wouldn't be who I am if it didn't, you know? But on the other hand…well…it has to be done. Just because my father would approve doesn't make it _wrong_." I sigh. "That doesn't make me feel any better, though."

She stretches up, kisses my cheek. "Well, hey, _I_ like you."

I kiss her forehead. "I like you, too."

"Good." Her hand stops tracing patterns, starts wandering, lower and lower, down below the covers. "Now, if you don't mind, I think I'm done talking about Aang and your dad."

I smile. "In that case, you have my complete and undivided attention."

"Damn straight."

* * *

Just a short one here, guys. I really should've gone ahead and posted this up last night, but I got tired and went to bed. Plus, you know, _beer_. As I was saying, though, if I'd put this up last night, some of the questions raised by the last chapter…well…wouldn't have needed to be raised.

That said, one of Aang's biggest issues in Canon is dealing with the consequences of his actions. He can be remarkably thoughtless at times, and one of the things I want to do in this story is shake that out of him, because how's he supposed to truly become the Avatar otherwise? Anyways…

In the next chapter, Zuko and Sokka prepare for Sokka's Trial, and Aang and Zuko make up.


	32. Chapter 32

32. TWO DAYS PASS. The villa is a hive of activity. Everyone is doing something. Piandao's men bustle about, packing, sharpening, polishing. Food and supplies are gathered and carefully packs. Every morning, we take our breakfast with Piandao, plan and plot. Through it all, Aang remains sullen and silent. He barely says a word to any of us. It's hard to apply any word other than _pouting_ for what he's doing.

Sokka is fully committed to preparing for the Trial. Every morning after breakfast, we go to the practice hall and spar. He hurls himself into his task. He works with the other students as well, cooking and cleaning and doing all the little Zen-like tasks meant to teach discipline and conditioning. It really is a side of Sokka I'd only ever glimpsed before. If anyone had any doubts that he was ready, those doubts are long gone.

Aang, I think, has the busiest days. Katara, Toph, and I work him hard. We practice all three of our elements. Toph gives him the worst of it, I think. She seems to have taken Aang's behavior personally, even more than me; to be honest, I go pretty easy on him. By the end of Toph's sessions, though, Aang is caked in dirt and sweat. He doesn't speak much to any of us. We give him instructions, he nods assent, and that's about it. He still avoids my eyes.

In the evenings, Piandao and I have private meetings, where he gives me more information on the state of the realm. We discuss the latest intelligence, who's still loyal to my father, who's loyal to me, who's on the fence, who's vulnerable to persuasion. Piandao also has news from the rest of the world, news which I always pass on to the others. Piracy has become a problem once again, and chaos still reigns in the Earth Kingdom. Rebellion in the occupied regions is widespread, and the Fire Nation's armies are stretched incredibly thin. A Northern Water Tribe army is rumored to have landed in the Earth Kingdom, and the war effort here is being ramped up as much as possible, and then some. The result is anger and dissent; there have been draft riots in the south, and grumbling in the regular army is widespread.

It's a vicious cycle, really. To win the war requires more effort, but more effort requires more sacrifice, which in turn causes dissent and disorder, which hinders the war effort, which forces the war to drag on, and then the cycle begins anew.

_Never ending…_

_ A century old now…_

My nights are spent with Katara. What happens there is our business, but we rarely wake up feeling anything but pleased.

After breakfast on the third day, Sokka and I head over to the villa's forge. There, the blacksmith walks Sokka through the steps of forging his own sword. It's not a difficult lesson. Sokka may be short on book smarts (he can barely read, which Katara says is sadly common in the Southern Water Tribes these days), but his store of practical knowledge is vast. He listens intently, asks excellent questions, and is soon hard at work forging a practice blade. He will spend the rest of the day in the forge, working up from daggers to full swords, until he is ready for the final step. At that point, he will be allowed to forge a _true_ Piandao Blade, using steel tempered with iron from a meteorite that fell to earth long ago. If he does it right, the result will be a true work of art, a black steel sword which rarely dulls and can slice through just about anything. Sokka practically vibrates at the thought, he's so giddy. His excitement is contagious; I end up spending several hours in the forge, stripped to the waist, my hair tied back in a sloppy top-knot, working and forging and repairing. It's been _years_ since I've done this kind of work. After a few hours, I'm bathed in sweat from head to toe, and yet, I feel clean, relaxed, refreshed. My head is clearer than it's been in months, and I find myself trading laughs and jokes and dirty comments with Sokka while I work. Outside of my nights with Katara, it's the most fun I've had in a very long time.

Not long before lunch, we step outside for a smoke break. We settle ourselves onto the ground, heads laid back against the outside wall of the forge. It's beautiful out, a fine autumn day. A cool breeze stirs the air, and the sky is filled with thin, wispy clouds. I find myself hoping that the weather holds, frown at the thought, shake it away. I light our cigarettes, and we smoke with eyes closed and smiles on our faces.

A voice, small and soft.

"_Zuko…?_"

I crack open an eye, and then another. The source of the voice kneels before me, head bowed, face solemn, hands clasped before him.

"What can I do for you, Aang?"

He takes a deep breath. When he speaks, his voice quivers with emotion and barely suppressed tears. Any residual anger I might possibly have still felt dies a quick death.

"I want to apologize for what I said a few days ago. I won't ask for your forgiveness, because what I said was completely uncalled-for and unjustified. Since you have joined this group, you have done nothing but prove, every day, what kind of a man, _of a human being_, you are. I had no right to take my confusions out on you, and for that, I am deeply, humbly sorry." He ends by bowing his head to the ground, and waits.

I turn to Sokka. "So, what do you think?"

Sokka shrugs. "Well…I _guess_ it's good, though what I'm really wondering is how much of that my sister gave to him."

Aang rises back to a kneeling position, eyes low. "Katara still won't speak to me outside of training. I had to ask Toph to help me figure out what to say."

My eyebrow pops. "Toph came up with all that?"

Aang nods. "Well, I told her what I wanted to say, and she helped me find the words." He frowns. "On a related note, I need to get going. Lady Bei Fong's feet aren't going to wash themselves, it seems." He bows once more, rises, starts to walk away.

"Aang, wait."

He stops, turns. I move from sitting to kneeling, and bow my head to him. His eyes are wide, full of confusion. "Wait…what?"

I clear my throat. "I'm sorry, too, Aang. I shouldn't have hit you like that. Avatar or no, I'm the adult here, and I shouldn't have acted like that."

He frowns. "Well…I'm not sure I should accept that you need to make an apology, Zuko. After all, it wasn't exactly _wrong_ for you to do that."

I smile. "Maybe not, but that doesn't make it _right_, does it?"

For a second, his face goes blank, then realization slowly creeps into his eyes. He blinks, once, twice, then smiles back, bows deeply from the waist. "I think, my friend, that I finally understand what you've been trying to tell me."

I bow back, return to my position next to Sokka. "I think, my friend, that we've both learned something today."

He nods, and starts to head back to the main hall, but stops, turns back again. "I really am sorry, Zuko, lesson or no lesson. Being scared is no excuse to mean to a friend."

I nod, smile. "Trust me, I know. That's a lesson we all have to learn, though. Just be thankful that your lesson didn't hurt as much as mine."

He takes that in. "Still think I'm alright?"

"Most of the time, Aang. Now, run along, before the Lady Bei Fong comes and hunts you down."

At that, his eyes fly wide, and he's off like a shot. Sokka and I wait until he's out of earshot before bursting into hysterics. We shouldn't, we know, not after all that maturity, but what else is one to do with the image of the Avatar washing Toph Bei Fong's feet? _Fucking __**frown?**_

* * *

See? I told you they'd make up, and I really do think that Aang's learned something valuable here. We'll see how it pays off, eh?

I do want to take a moment to comment on my explanation for how long the war has been going on. My personal thought has always been that the Fire Nation has probably come close to victory before. I mean, their enemies are fractured and often incompetent, so why haven't they won yet? I think the problem has always been that they simply _can't_ win, not against the whole world. Their resources just can't sustain them. So, in my mind, they've probably been close to victory before, only had to pull back because the resources just started to run out and the people started to grumble. The problem now is the current leadership. Say what you will about Sozin and Azulon, but they both seemed like they had their shit together; in my mind, they knew when to stop pushing their people. Ozai, though, is a card-carrying evil villain; he doesn't know when to stop, and, really, _he can't_. So he's going to keep pushing and pushing and pushing, no matter what it takes.

Good thing Zuko's around, eh?

In the next chapter, Sokka undergoes his trial. Stay tuned!


	33. Chapter 33

33. THE DAY BEFORE A TRIAL, AN APPLICANT IS FORBIDDEN FROM TOUCHING A BLADE. Sokka follows this rule to the letter. After breakfast, he spends the morning helping the other students give the villa a final scrubbing. After lunch, he joins the rest of us as I teach everyone how to ride a komodo-rhino. Aang, oddly enough, turns out to be a natural, for reasons none can even _begin_ to fathom. After the riding lesson, I give Aang a final firebending work-over, while Sokka joins Toph in making sly jokes at Katara and mine's expense. I don't get to hear any of these, but according to Katara, they're quite witty. I take her word for it, as I do most things.

With dinner, Sokka officially begins his fast. He drinks only bread and water, and declines any tobacco. Even _mention_ of a trial is forbidden at this point, so we all chat lightly about this and that, while Toph indulges in her new favorite game of seeing how obvious a hint she can drop before Aang finally gets wise. So far, it seems that she has yet to succeed. Aang is simply too deep in his own thoughts.

In the center of the villa is a small shrine, non-specific, the symbols of the elements carved into the four corners. Here, after dinner, is where Sokka goes. He will sit down in the center of the floor, his sheathed sword in his lap. He will not sleep. He will not eat. He will not drink. He will observe the watches of the night.

Katara and I walk him there. Outside, he hugs his sister, embraces me. "Any final words of advice?" he asks me.

"Don't sit where you face the water emblem. If you do, you'll spend all night thinking about how you can't go to the bathroom."

He laughs. "Know that from experience, eh?"

"Heh…I had to go so bad that I almost wet myself more than once."

We both chuckle at that, then I close the door behind me. Piandao locks it, and we all retire for the night. I'm not sure any of us sleep; we're all nervous for Sokka. Toph paces out in the courtyard, and after a while, Aang joins her. Katara is a nervous wreck, at least until I divert her attention. Even then, neither of us really _sleep_, per se.

As the nominator, it's my duty to enter the shrine come dawn and bring Sokka to his appointment with Piandao. He is deep in thought when I enter. I walk over, settle down across from him, wait for him to notice me. It takes him a few minutes. He blinks once, twice, smiles. "That time already?"

I nod. "It is, indeed."

He stretches, heaves a great, cracking yawn. "Shall we?"

"In a minute." I clear my throat. "As your sponsor for the Trial, there are a few things I'm required to say. Try not to laugh, okay?"

He arches an eyebrow. "Is that a risk?"

"Heh…when I took the Trial, I was so tired that I couldn't stop giggling as my uncle spoke to me."

"How'd he take that?"

"As he would, by giggling with me." I look away. "But that's my uncle for you…"

He reaches out, lays a hand on my arm. "We'll get him, Zuko. Trust me."

I smile. "With my life, buddy."

He resumes his position. "That's more like it." He composes himself, bows his head. "I'm ready."

"Right." I clear my throat one more time, compose myself. I straighten my back, pitch my voice low and deep, shake an incipient smile from my lips. "Candidate Sokka of the Southern Water Tribes, son of Hakoda and Kya, brother of Katara-"

He giggles there, but quickly recovers himself.

"_Ahem_. Brother of Katara, companion of the Avatar, and best friend of Zuko, today you face the Trial. Should you pass, you will no longer be _student_. You will be a true swordsman. You will have been inaugurated into _The Way of the Sword_. With this comes great responsibility. Do you understand?"

He bows. "I do."

"Do you know what it means to follow _The Way of the Sword?_"

He bows. "I do."

"Tell me."

"The swordsman is true, honest, and brave. He faces his fears. He lets them pass through him and over him, until he remains. He does not use his sword for personal profit or gain. He uses it in the service of his people and his country, never himself. And he never draws his sword unless he intends to use it."

I bow. "Excellent, Candidate Sokka."

He bows. "Thank you, Friend Zuko."

I swallow a smile. "Candidate Sokka, you will notice that there are two doors in this place, on opposite sides. The door to my left will take you to the Trial. Exit through it, and there is no turning back until your Trial is complete. Exit through the door to my right, however, and you will not be required to undergo the Trial today. You will relinquish your sword until such time as you are ready for it. Think carefully, Candidate Sokka. Many candidates have needed to sit several vigils before they were ready. No one will think less of you or your bravery. Now, Candidate Sokka, which door will you choose?"

He does not hesitate. "The door of the Trial."

I smile, bow. "Very good. One final thing: Know that the Trial itself is of little importance. By your deeds and your discipline, you have already proven yourself worth of any test, no matter the outcome. You have already decided whether you will pass or fail. All else is in the hands of the gods." I take a deep breath, let it out, relax. "Candidate Sokka, are you ready?"

He bows. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Then let us proceed." I stand, shake myself loose. "And Sokka?"

"Hmm?"

"Please don't get hurt. Your sister will kill me."

He smiles. "Which will _pale_ in comparison to what she'll do to _me_."

We laugh, and then step through the door.

Piandao awaits us in the central courtyard. The entire villa is arrayed around in a circle; attendance at a trial is compulsory. The circle parts slightly to let us pass, closing behind us. Just beyond the circle is a raised dais, for friends and family of a candidate. I look to it, see Aang, Toph, Katara. Katara's face is white as a sheet; her and Toph are clinging to each other. Aang sits a little apart, face drawn in concentration. I smile at Katara; she smiles back, then falls right back into terrified concentration.

We reach Piandao, bow. He bows back, turns to me. "Fire Lord Zuko, are you satisfied that the Candidate is ready?"

"I am."

"Very well." He bows my dismissal. I bow to him, then to Sokka. I throw him a wink before joining the others on the dais. Katara immediately shifts from clutching Toph to clutching me, which would be fine, comfortable, even, if Toph hadn't immediately shifted around us to clutch my other side, though at least not as tightly as Katara. I stifle a sigh.

_Like I'm not anxious enough…_

The final stage has begun. Piandao holds out his hand, into which Sokka places his sheathed sword. Piandao draws it; the black steel shimmers in the rising sun. "A handsome blade, Candidate. I see you have worked very fine details into the hilt and pommel. Are you aware of my position on ornate blades?"

"I am, Master."

"May I ask why you have disregarded this philosophy?"

"Of course, Master. My people believe that the spirits of our ancestors will lend us aid in times of need, if we do them honor. The designs are meant to prove that both the blade and the wielder are worthy of their blessing."

"So, these sigils and designs are specific to your family and your tribe?"

"Yes, Master."

Piandao smiles. "Then they are not useless decorations, but a sacred duty. Any who would disapprove are not fit to speak on the subject." He hefts the sword, twirls it around in his hand, and suddenly, his grandfatherly smile turns to a wolfish grin.

"Candidate Sokka?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Defend yourself."

Sokka's sword goes flying into the air, blade flashing black fire in the sun. In a blur of motion, Piandao's own sword is out, slashing. It strikes empty air. Sokka bounds out of the way. Katara gasps, digs her nails into my arm. Toph demands to know what's happening. Sokka's sword lands in the dirt, point down. Sokka spins, wheels, twirls away from Piandao's slashing blade.

_The Trial has begun…_

The dance continues. Piandao slashes and slices, striking nothing but empty air. Both are a blur of motion. Sokka wheels, spins, ducks. Piandao slices the air around him, never more than an inch or two away. Sokka leaps over a low slash, slides under a high one, twists around one aimed at his torso. Piandao is even with him, step-by-step. Sokka cannot seem to put in some distance. Piandao keeps between him and his sword, but cannot seem to land a blow. It's a stalemate, until it isn't. Piandao is rolling back. Sokka has punched him. Piandao steps back, dodging what seems to be a kick, only Sokka's not there, he's sliding across the dirt, he's up, his sword is in his hand, they advance on each other, steel strikes steel and the morning is alive with the song of swords.

Aang and Katara cheer.

Toph mutters, "What the fuck happened?"

"Sokka got his sword back," I explain.

"Ah."

Steel flashes, steel dances, steel sings. Two forms duck and weave and swirl and twist and blur around and into each other. Swords beat out a metallic drumbeat. Fire dances on black steel struck by the sun. Advance, retreat, duck, dodge, parry, slash, thrust. Sokka on the defensive, rarely on the attack, but holding his own, standing his ground, face calm, impassive. Another stalemate. Sokka defense, Piandao attacks, no way to break out, and then, there…

_**There!**_

An opening. A momentary weakness. Sokka spots it before it's even there. He strikes at the precise moment. A smile flashes across Piandao's face. Another blur. _Clang! Clang! Clang!_ Sokka is in the dust, his sword just out of reach, Piandao's blade at his throat. The world goes still. Nothing moves. Nothing breathes. Piandao drops his sword, retrieves Sokka's, hands it hilt-first to him. Piandao reaches down, pulls Sokka up. Piandao bows. Sokka bows back.

_We all breathe…_

_ He passed…_

We're all off the dais before the eye can blink. Toph makes me carry her. Katara almost knocks her brother to the ground, so fierce is her embrace. Aang piles on, then Toph, then me. Soon, Sokka is gasping for breath. We're all giddy with joy. Katara has tears in her eyes. _You did it! You did it! You did it!_ She screams it over and over again. The group hug breaks apart, and him and I engage in a round of manly embracing and back thumping. When Aang tries for one, Sokka's so pumped he even gives the boy a noogie. Even Piandao laughs at that.

Finally, we step back. Piandao beams at Sokka. "You did marvelously, young man. You should be proud of yourself."

"Thank you, Master." Sokka bows. "Though, I'm surprised you think so, considering the number of times you almost had me."

Piandao waves that away. "I've been at this for a very long time, Sokka. You were never going to beat me, but you still passed the test. I knew you would from the first few seconds. And besides, you were never in danger."

I sigh. "Can I tell them now, Master?"

He nods. "You may, your majesty. Just allow me a moment." He turns to the assembled company, dismisses them. I wait until they're moving away, then move over and pick up the sword Piandao had been using.

Katara comes over to me. "Tell us what?" she asks.

I bare my arm, slash Piandao's blade across the inner skin. Sokka gasps. "It was _blunted?_" he blurts out.

"Of course!" I say, smiling. "You think a man who runs a _school_ would risk serious injury to his _students?_"

"Well…yeah! I mean…look at the guy!"

"Good," Piandao says, "otherwise, it wouldn't be much of a test, now, would it?"

Sokka shrugs. "True…hey, is it too early for a stiff drink? I think I've earned it."

Piandao laughs. "I should hope not! Come! It's time to celebrate!"

Cheers ripple out and through the villa. We all cheer. We cheer and shout ourselves hoarse. That night, there is a feast. We eat and drink everything we won't be able to take with us. There are no frowns, only smiles, smiles and laughter. Tomorrow, we face the darkness. Tonight, we bask in the light. In my room, Katara and I practically tear each other's clothes off. Afterwards, we lie entwined, twisted around each other, drifting away.

"_I miss my mom…_" Katara mumbles into my chest.

"_I know. I miss mine, too…_" I whisper into her hair.

Darkness falls before the tears can come.

* * *

Hey! Sokka passed! How cool was that?!

This was actually one of my favorite chapters to write thus far. It's fun taking a Canon episode and turning it into something new. I think mine is a little more fun and believable, plus, it was just fun in general. I mean, who doesn't love a good sword fight?!

If anyone's curious as to why Aang is feeling weird, well, read the last couple chapters. He's got a lot on his mind, a lot of it confusing. He's starting to wonder if his _principles_ are really worth having in a time like this, or if they're actually going to be actively harmful to his friends and his planet. It's a complicated question with no easy answers, and he's going to struggle with it.

In the next chapter, shit gets real!


	34. Chapter 34

34. WE'RE TWO DAYS ON THE MARCH WHEN THE ATTACK COMES. We depart under cover of darkness, after the sun goes down on the day after Sokka's Trial. We file out of the villa, leaving it dead and deserted in our wake. We march in loose order, down through the village and up the valley wall. The villagers wave in silence as we pass, Piandao, myself, the gang, and a hundred men and boys. People bow as I ride by, press their foreheads to the ground. There is a strange sensation in the air. We all feel it, like a wet blanket wrapped tightly around our skin.

I'm not happy about the boys, the younger students, sixteen and seventeen and eighteen. None of us are, Piandao in particular, but as he points out, to try to stop them would be a waste of time. They'd only sneak away and follow us, so might as well arm them and keep them close. He's right, but we still don't like it.

Four of us ride komodo-rhinos, Piandao, Aang, Katara, and myself. Toph and Sokka march with the men. I want to march with them, but again Piandao intervenes, points out my rank, says that a Fire Lord may charge into battle with his men, but he simply cannot walk with them in the dust. Thus, I ride with Piandao, and Katara rides with me to keep me company. Aang just really likes riding a komodo-rhino.

We march all through the night, the only sounds the _clink_ and _clack_ and _thump_ of an armed column on the move. Morning comes, and we rest for two hours, eat, then press on. We march through rolling hills and spacious forests, through sleepy villages and around bustling towns. We pause again at noon, then march on until nightfall. We pitch camp on a broad-topped hill, far from the road we'd been following. Watches are set, sentries posted. We don't raise tents, and all sleep with weapons close by. Piandao, Katara, and I walk the camp before turning in, checking on every one, making sure all is well. Katara becomes a big hit with the company, using her healing knowledge on sore feet and aching muscles and incipient blisters. That night, Katara resumes sleep under my blanket with me. We're too tired to do anything more than sleep, though.

In the morning, Aang looks very morose. I think he's catch on. During the noon break, he goes to Toph and asks her if she thinks anything's going on. As Toph tells it, she just rolled her eyes and said, "And you guys think _I'm_ blind." He then goes to Sokka, who, being a good guy, commiserates with him, slaps the Avatar on the back, then makes clear that he's perfectly okay with it all. Aang becomes less mopey after that; fifteen-year-olds tend to bounce back quickly from such things. He still goes around for the rest of that day's march with a bit of a hang-dog expression on his face.

IT must be close to midnight when Toph leaps out from under her blanket, eyes wide, screaming. _"Riders! Lots of them!"_ The camp explodes, especially as the sentries come running back, confirming the report. The call goes up. _To arms! To arms! _Piandao is up instantly. He moves fast, ordering the company into a tightly packed ring, three deep, spear points out. We're on another broad-topped hill, trees scattered on the slopes. We occupy the hill. We can see the riders filtering in from all around, columns bristling with steel glimmering in the moonlight. The moon is full, the night clear. We can see for miles. Before we left, Piandao had given me a sword to use until I retried my own from my crew at the rendezvous. I buckle this to my waist, loosen the blade in the scabbard. I pull Sokka out of the line. He objects, until I point out that I need him to serve as a sort of reserve, to stiffen the line as needed. He nods, slips a helm on. Piandao and I draw up a plan. We'll try to beat them off, then make a run for it. With luck, they're not very many. Piandao bows to me. I bow back. We put on helms and check our armor. Katara fills a bucket from some spare water skins, sets up a little aid station. Toph claps her hands, rubs them together. I look out on the horde milling around the base of the hill. There at least three hundred, all mounted, lances shining in the pale white light. There's that roaring in my ears.

_My scar aches and aches and aches…_

A hand, slipped into mine, pulling me around. Katara, tilting up my helm. Her lips on mine, greedy, desperate. _Or is that me?_ We stop, pull away. She whispers in my ear.

"_Don't date go without me…_"

I nod, kiss her again.

"_I won't…_"

She goes back to her post. Sokka, tapping my shoulder. I turn. He has a thin smile on his face.

"If you're quite done macking on my sister, somebody wants to see you." He points down the hill. A lone rider has peeled away, slowly working his way up the hill. A white flag flies from his spear.

I nod. "Right then. And for the record, it was your sister who was macking on _me_."

He snorts. "Likely story."

"Whatever." I turn to Piandao. "Master?"

"Your majesty?"

"Any chance that they don't know I'm here and what we're about?"

He shakes his head, face grim. "I wouldn't bet on it."

I nod. "Well, then I'm going to go see what they want. You're in command."

He bows. "Of course, your majesty." He rises, frowns. "And Zuko?"

"Yes?"

"Please be careful, young man. Your uncle would not take it kindly if something happened to you on my watch."

I nod, bow, begin walking away. I'm a few steps along when I notice Sokka beside me. I roll my eyes. "And just what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Saving my life."

"How's that?"

"Because my life won't be worth much with my sister otherwise."

"Heh…fair enough."

We move through the line. I pat shoulders, whisper words of encouragement. We're through. The night is quiet, cool, _dead_. Even the wind is silent. The hills is surrounded. The foot boils with armed men. Komodo-rhinos snort and paw the ground. Sokka and I walk, almost in step. The rider pulls up, waits. We march towards him, step-by-step.

_My scar aches and aches…_

"Sokka?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sleeping with your sister."

"Duh. Why blurt it out like that, though?"

"In case this goes bad, I felt you should, I dunno, _officially know_, or whatever. Heh…made sense in my mind."

"Fair enough. Since we're being honest, though, I think your sister is, like, smoking hot."

"_What?!_"

"Totally, man. If she wasn't, like, batshit insane and generally pre-occupied with killing us, I'd totally go for it."

"You're a nut." _Pause_. "I love you, man."

"Love you, too, buddy."

_We're there…_

The rider slides off his mount, lands with a _thud_ in the grass. He drops his lance, removes his helm. We remove ours. I look into his face. He reminds me strongly of Kimura.

_Why do they all have to be so young…_

He bows. We bow back. He clears his throat.

"Good evening, Prince Zuko. I'm sorry to say that it's not a surprise to see you here."

"Good evening. What can I do for you?"

"I represent Colonel Yoshio, down below. He wishes to resolve this without bloodshed."

"As do we all."

"Quite. Thus, I am here to offer you terms."

"We will hear them."

"Surrender yourself and the Avatar, and the rest of your companions may return home unharmed. Simply lay down your arms, relinquish your claim to the throne, and turn yourself over. Do that, and no one has to die. Do you accept?"

"No."

"Pardon?"

I laugh. I can't help it. All this time, everything I've done, the lengths I have gone to, the threat I've come to represent, and my father still thinks so little of me. _Incredible_. The man's arrogance truly knows no bounds.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" My voice is cold, dripping with contempt. "None of us will leave this place alive. I'm too dangerous, the Avatar's too dangerous, those who would follow me are too dangerous. Look me in the eye, friend, and tell me that those are my father's real orders. Look me in the eye, say that again, and I might believe you."

He tries, Agni help him, he tries. He looks, he blinks, he struggles, and then…

_He looks away…_

I nod. "Thought so. Kindly inform Colonel Yoshio that _Fire Lord_ Zuko kindly requests that he go fuck himself. Anything you wish to add, Sokka?"

"You bet." He turns to the rider. "This the same Yoshio who once led the Southern Raiders?"

The young man gulps, nods. "I believe so."

Sokka nods, face grim. His eyes dance with fire. "Excellent. Then kindly inform him that two members of the Southern Water Tribes await him at the top of this hill, and really hope he leads from the front." He turns back to me. "I'm good. We done?"

I nod. "We're done." I turn back to the young man. _So young…_ "See you in hell, my friend." I bow. Sokka bows.

He bows back. "And you, m'lord."

On our way back up the hill, I turn to Sokka, ask, "Are _those_ the Southern Raiders?"

He shakes his head. "Wrong uniforms. Close enough, though, if Yoshio's in charge."

I nod. "Doesn't matter in the end, I suppose."

Sokka nods. "Nope. Not today."

In foot of the hill is boiling again. Tension shimmers in the air. Muttered prayed, mumbled curses, thunderous silence. Pale faces, set faces, brave faces, terrified faces, _blank faces._ Piandao on a box, shouting orders. I ask him to let me take his place for a moment. He bows. I bow back. He steps down. I step up. I clear my throat.

_My scar aches…_

"Gentlemen."

A hundred pairs of eyes turn to me.

"Today, you face a choice, a choice between life and death, the past and the future. On this hill is the future, down there, the past. I've made my choice. There's no going back for me. I must stand and win, or stand and die. That choice, however, is not yet made for you. Throw down your arms now, run away, leave to my fate, and you just might make it. They want me, not you. Now is your chance. I will not ask any to die for me. I'm not my father. I am only Zuko. We do not fight for the world here. We fight only for our nation, our pride, our dignity, our future. So choose now, before it's too late:

"Choose Zuko or Ozai."

Silence, a knife scrapped over rock. _Drip-drip-drip_ in the bucket of time. Wide eyes. Narrow eyes. _Closed eyes_. And the chant, from a hundred voices. Rhythmic. Pounding. Raw. _Roaring._

_ Zu-ko!_

_ Zu-ko!_

_ Zu-ko!_

_**Zu-ko!**_

I bow. I leap from the box. Piandao and I embrace. He steps onto the box. I stride to Aang. The trumpets are blaring below us. He's crouching on the ground. I pull him up by his shirt collar. I don't want to be rough, but the time for kindness has passed. This is a moment. I have searched for answers, found so many. Now he needs to find one, too. I shake him. There are tears in his eyes. The tears only make me more determined. _Why does he get to cry?!_

_ "Aang!"_

_ "What?!"_

_ "Choose! Choose now!"_

_ "Choose what?!"_

_ "Run or fight!"_

_ "I won't run!"_

_ "Then fight!"_

_ "I won't kill!"_

_ "You don't have that choice anymore!"_

_ "There's always a choice!"_

I close my eyes. Blood pounds in my ears.

_My scar aches…_

I shake my head. I pinch my nose. "You keep believing that, Aang. I hope it brings you peace." I toss him to the ground. I march away. Tears roll from his eyes. He looks desperately for someone to tell him what to do. He tries to speak to Toph. Toph flips him off and turns her back. He tries to reason with Katara. She ignores him. Sokka just threatens to punch him. I don't see any of this. My sword is drawn. A roar has gone up. Three-hundred throats shout.

_O-zai!_

_ O-zai!_

_**O-zai!**_

I raise my sword. A hundred spears beat against the ground. A hundred throats chant.

_Zu-ko!_

_ Zu-ko!_

_**Zu-ko!**_

A final call. A final cry. Lances raised in the moonlight, lowered, pointed gleaming, pale white death. A last thought in my head.

_If only Aang could be right…_

They charge.

_My scar aches and aches…_

_ Piandao shouting…_

_ Hold…_

_ Hold the line…_

_ Voices screaming…_

_ Chanting…_

_**O-zai!**_

_** Zu-ko!**_

_** O-zai!**_

_** Zu-ko!**_

_Spears leveled…_

_ Aang crying…_

_ Toph begins to move…_

_ The hill comes alive…_

_ Riders thrown…_

_ Mounts screaming…_

_ Men flying…_

_ She can't get them all…_

_**O-zai!**_

_** Zu-ko!**_

_Fireballs flying…_

_ I move…_

_ Deflect…_

_ Deflect…_

_**I can't get them all…**_

_** None land…**_

_** Aang is moving…**_

_** HOLD!**_

_** HOLD!**_

_They charge…_

_ The ground shakes…_

_ Aang crying, dancing through the air, none of the fire lands…_

_ Men crying…_

_ Boys crying…_

_**HOLD!**_

_** O-ZAI!**_

_** HOLD!**_

_** ZU-KO!**_

_They charge…_

_ Fire…_

_ Deflect…_

_**HOLD!**_

_** O-ZAI!**_

_** HOLD!**_

_** ZU-KO!**_

_A flash of light…_

_ Fire…_

_**The Avatar has come…**_

_Screaming…_

_ Crying…_

_ Men flying…_

_ Men dying…_

_ The crash…_

_**They're in the line…**_

_Blood…_

_ Blood glimmering in the moonlight…_

_ Katara and Sokka…_

_ The Water Tribe war cry…_

_**O-ZAI!**_

_ Piandao in the midst…_

_ A blur…_

_**ZU-KO!**_

_Spears thrust…_

_ Aang floating…_

_ His eyes blue…_

_ Blood on my blade…_

_ Men crying mercy in the dirt…_

_ Light…_

_ Light…_

_**LIGHT!**_

_Then darkness…_

_ My scar aches…_

_**It's over…**_

* * *

Remember how I said, in the last author's note, that shit was about to get real? Well, it did. It won't stop getting real for a while. In the series, the show takes a decidedly dark turn (by its standards) not far into Book 3. I know we were already pretty dark before this, but we're going to follow that Canon turn. At this point, the Fire Nation is officially at war with itself. With this battle, Zuko is officially in open revolt against his father. He's now, for better or worse, a rival claimant in a civil war.

_It's going to get interesting…_

I hope you guys don't mind the way I wrote this and put it together. This is a very different fight from the one the Gaang had a while back, when we were still in the Earth Kingdom. This is a legit battle; in getting that across, I was trying to give a taste of the chaos, the confusion, and the terror. Something friends of mine who've been on combat have always tried to communicate is how one never really knows what the hell's going on. I wanted to capture a little taste of that. I hope I did well.

For those who missed it, Aang flipped into the Avatar state and saved the day. Before someone says, _But, wait, he can't access his seventh chakra because of Azula_, I say, _Unless shit gets real_. The chakras are for if he wants to enter it willingly, and have real control. It's always pretty clear in the story that if he gets worked up enough, he can enter it more-or-less by accident. Thus, there, at the end, Aang makes his choice. He's going to have to deal with it now.

In the next chapter, a lone survivor is questioned, and the Gaang gets some hard-to-hear answers.


	35. Chapter 35

35. WE FIND THE AFOREMENTIONED COLONEL YOSHIO UNDER HIS KOMODO-RHINO. His legs are crushed. He can barely breathe. Tears pour from his eyes. Blood dribbles from his mouth. He begs for mercy. We all think of Kimura and find the wreck before us severely lacking. We pull him out from beneath his mount. His face seems very old. Grey flecks his hair. His beard with streaked with grey and blood. We bind his legs. We don't want him to die yet.

_We need answers…_

_ My scar aches…_

Sokka holds his sword to Yoshio's throat. Hatred pulses through him. There are only the four of us, Toph, Sokka, Yoshio, and me. Katara is treating our wounded. Piandao is getting the men into marching order. There are no boys anymore. Only men, whether sixteen or twenty-six.

_Aang won't stop crying…_

I light a cigarette. I don't offer Yoshio one.

"How did you find us?" My voice is empty, dull, flat. The words burn in my throat. My throat is raw. Blood dries on my armor.

"_Please,_" Yoshio begs. His voice pleads. "Please don't kill me…"

"We'll kill you when we want to," Sokka growls, "not before."

_"Please,_" Yoshio sobs, "_I would've let you all go, I promise, no matter what Ozai said to me…_"

I slap him. "Focus!" I shout. "_How did you find us?!_"

He breathes deep. Air rattles in his throat.

"We got Mori…"

I blink.

_My scar aches…_

"Lord Mori?" I ask.

He nods. "He was tough. He didn't give in. He died first. His daughters weren't so strong…" A thin smile creases his blood-flecked lips.

I close my eyes. Images flash through my mind. Images I don't want. Yoshio is talking.

_My scar aches…_

"We hung them all. Then we came for you. Shu Jing burned. _We burned it_. Then we came for you…" He gasps, please. "_Please don't kill me…_"

I slap him again. Sokka digs his sword in. Blood drips from Yoshio's throat.

"_How did you know?!_"

I'm shouting. _Screaming…_

He gasps. Blood spurts from his mouth. "Your fleet was intercepted. They fought hard. They got away, most of them. We didn't get any big fish. Hakoda even got away. We lost a lot, I heard…but that's Hakoda, I suppose." He gasps again. _Blood._ "We put two-and-two together, or at least that's what I was told. I didn't ask the details, I never do. Heh…_that's why I get these jobs._ Ozai ordered Mori's arrest and…_questioning_." Tears break out anew. "_Please…_"

I slap him.

"_What else do you know?!_"

"Only that you made for Shu Jing. That's all Mori's daughters would tell us. All they seemed to know." He blinks. Tears flow. "_Please…_"

I slap him.

"_What about the peninsula? The bunker? __**What about the eclipse?!**_"

He opens his eyes. He smiles.

"That was all a trick, or at least, it is now, in case I couldn't catch you. Only Iroh is there. He's to be killed the second you attack." He sighs. _Blood_. "Ozai's little joke. Azula's idea. _The bastards._" He coughs. _Blood._

My ears roar. I stand. I nod at Sokka. Black steel flashes. Yoshio screams as his throat is cut.

_It's done._

Toph scoffs. "I liked Kimura better."

Sokka wipes his sword clean on Yoshio's sleeve. "We all did." He spits on the corpse. "That's for my mother."

I nod. "_Mine, too._"

We march. We march through the night, through the day. We collapse the next night, and sleep where we fall. Katara wakes me. She drags me away from the camp. She slams me against a tree. We're not that far away, but we don't care. I'm not sure who takes whom. She kisses my scar. We're on the ground, in the dirt. Her legs are wrapped around me. Her lips on my scar.

_My scar doesn't ache…_

_ Her lips…_

_ My scar…_

_ I've never let anyone do that…_

_ I've never let anyone even __**touch **__it…_

_ And yet…_

_ And yet…_

The tears well up. They burn, hot and heavy. They don't fall. They just burn. We bury our faces in each other's arms while tears burn in our eyes.

"_Can I keep you?_" I ask.

"_Only if I can keep you,_" she answers.

In the morning, we march.

* * *

Shit's gotten real, guys, and it's going to stay real. Hope nobody minds.

Before anybody asks, Aang's crying because he just killed a couple hundred people, and everyone's upset because, well, _shit just went to pieces._ They can't go back, so now they have to go forward. If the chapter seems kind of strange and ethereal, that's because this is right after the battle. No one's slept, and everyone's coming off that adrenaline high. Ask a combat veteran (or anyone who's been through a traumatic, stressful experience) what that's like.

The next few notes are going to be short and sweet, because I think these chapters speak for themselves. I'm going to start taking some risks. I hope you guys are with me.

In the next chapter, the company marches, and Aang and Zuko have a moment. Stay tuned!


	36. Chapter 36

36. AANG FINDS ME ON THE MARCH. We're traveling fast, on reduced rations, barely pausing to sleep before marching on again. No one drops. No one complains. Their eyes shine when they look at me. I look in their eyes and see the loyalty. They whisper to each other. They tell tales of the battle. They say my name in the same hushed tones they say the names of their ancestors or their gods. They love me. They're mine to the death. If they weren't before, they are now. For them, I smile, I look brave. Katara is always at my side. My companions are praised, worshipped. Toph is carried by frail boys, generally over her objections, at least at first. They worship the ground Sokka walks on. They call me _Fire Lord_, and they mean it.

_They call Katara __**Fire Lady**__…_

_ It doesn't sound like the joke of my crew anymore…_

I don't see what they see. I don't know this Zuko. I give the youngest boys most of my rations behind my friends' backs, see the look in their eyes, and I don't get it. They go on and on, about how I leaped and whirled in the air, how I dove into the fight, how I hacked and slashed and parried, how I deflected every fireball, intercepted every fire whip, and I don't remember any of it. They tell me how I showed no fear, how I fought like a man possessed, and all I see…

_All I see…_

_ The court watches…_

_ The court laughs…_

_ My father's voice…_

_ Calling me a coward…_

_ Calling me weak…_

_ Only one honest face…_

_ I've never been so proud of you…_

_ An eighteen-year-old boy, screaming in pain and fire on polished marble floors…_

_ That's what I see…_

I don't tell them that. I don't even tell Sokka that. Sokka, my best friend. I only tell any of this to Katara. I tell her everything. _Except the food. She'd get angry. I know I shouldn't give the food away, but I just can't eat. I see my men starving, and I just can't eat._ She tells me everything. We let tears burn in our eyes. We miss our mothers. We lay entwined, fingers in each other's hair, and talk it out. And come daybreak, we're brave and firm.

_My scar aches all the time…_

_ The only time it doesn't is when her lips are on it…_

Aang tugs at my sleeve. I don't know what day it is. We're walking. We've had to abandon our mounts; we're going cross-country, rough terrain, and besides, they eat too much. Piandao raises no objections anymore. The Fire Lord marches in the dust and the dirt, while his Lady and his friends march with him.

_And the Avatar…_

I turn to him, look down. He's grown over the past year, but I'm still taller. To me, he still looks like a boy, until I remember…remember the battle…

_Glowing blue eyes…_

_ Men screaming…_

He's not a boy anymore.

"Zuko?"

"Hmm?"

"You were right. I just…I just want you to know that. You were right."

"About what?"

"About sometimes not having a choice."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Well…the things is…I don't _want_ to be right, Aang, not about this. I didn't _want_ to be right then, and I don't _want_ to be right now. I wanted _you_ to be right."

"Oh…really?"

"Of course. What? You think I _want_ things to be like this?"

"I guess I…I don't know, Zuko."

"Neither do I."

"You're…you're going to make a great Fire Lord, the best one in generations. You…you already are."

"Thank you. That…that means a lot to me. And Aang?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a better Avatar than anyone will ever give you credit for."

"Oh…really?"

"Of course."

"I don't feel like it."

"We never feel like what people tell us we are."

_Pause_.

"Zuko?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you love Katara?"

"I…I don't know. It's hard to think like that right now. Love requires a future, and it's hard to imagine one in a time like this. But…I more than like her. I imagine she'll tell me exactly what that means when she feels like it."

"Heh…yeah…you guys were all trying to tell me before, weren't you?"

"We figured you'd eventually get it. No reason to cause unnecessary drama, you know?"

"Heh…thanks for that. You know…I finally just up and asked Katara."

"Oh?"

"If she was with you."

"No shit? When was this?"

It's all an act. Katara and I already talked about it. We do that.

"I'm…you know, I'm not quite sure. Everything's kind of…blurring together, these past few…days?"

"Don't ask me. I haven't the faintest idea."

"Yeah…well, you know what she said?"

"What?"

"That yeah, you were together, and she was never leaving you, and you were never leaving her. Hence, my question about the love."

"Plus, you still have a crush on her."

"Well, yeah…but I'm fifteen, you know? And the Avatar. I imagine I'll get over it."

"That's very mature of you."

"I'm trying. I really am." _Pause._ "Would you ever leave her?"

"Fuck no."

"Good."

_Pause._

"Zuko?"

_Oh, for fuck's sake, don't ruin the moment, Aang._

"Hmm?"

"Please don't ever let me try to…I dunno…_wuss out_, ever again."

"Aang?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't ever stop being you. Promise me that."

"…okay…"

We march.

* * *

Sometimes, when we're tired and stressed, there are things we really want to talk about, but we can't. We're too tired, too worried, or we just can't seem to put the words together. So, instead, we talk about shit like this. That's what Zuko and Aang are doing. They're talking about shit by not talking about it. Before someone says that this is a _guy thing_, well…it's not. Girls are just as bad. Just throwing that out there. Nothing irritates me more than meaningless gender stereotypes.

If you're curious as to what Aang and Zuko really want to talk about, I imagine that Aang wants to talk about how he just killed a couple hundred people, and Zuko wants to talk about how he's now facing waging a civil war against his father. That's some heavy shit, guys.

Oddly enough, I really like the development between Zuko and Katara. They had it easy back at the villa; now they're in the crucible. This is where the petal meets the metal, so-to-speak. I think they're going to make it, which is as much as I'll tell you right now.

In case you missed it, by the way, the invasion is off, but the war is far from over. In the next chapter, we reach the rendezvous point, and Zuko pays for being too stressed to eat!

Fun Author Fact: Not eating is something I do when I'm stressed or upset. It drives my girlfriend up a wall, especially when I try to go several days on only cigarettes and water.

Fun Microsoft Word Fact: Word's Spellcheck feature considered _wuss_ to not be a word.


	37. Chapter 37

37. IT'S A FOUR-WEEK MARCH FROM SHU JING TO THE RENDEZVOUS POINT. We end up making it in two. I'm not entirely sure how we do it. Those two weeks are a blur, marching and marching and marching. It's either raining or it's dusty. When it rains, the mud sucks at our boots. When it's not raining, the dust hangs thing in the air, coating our clothes, our faces, our throats. No one seems to be aware what day it is, what time it is, how far we have to go. We only know our destination, and the direction we have to take to get there. So we march and we march and we march.

_My scar aches…_

_ Except at night…_

We've lost a lot. There's only about seventy of us now. We lost twenty in the battle, and another ten along the road. Those were the badly wounded. They make us leave them behind. We carry them for several days (_I think_), until finally, they mutiny. I refuse to listen, none of us do, Piandao loses his cool, screams, raises his voice for the first time in Agni only knows how long, but then one of them, a sixteen-year-old boy without any legs anymore, slits his own throat to make their point. With tears in my eyes, we leave them, leave them with Kodaira, who still has a spear point buried in his stomach, the man who welcomed us to the villa.

_Ages ago…_

They chant my name as we march away. Somehow, this makes my men love me even more. I'm not sure I understand. I'm not sure I ever will.

_ I don't sleep much that night…_

The others get as little sleep as I do. Sokka is constantly out, scouting, hunting. The column cheers his name every time he brings back a fresh kill. Toph stands watch every night, takes to sleep on one of my boy's backs during the day. Katara flies in and out of the column, healing every ache and pain she finds, or at least that the boys will admit to. The men whisper her name in hushed tones. Piandao trudges with me. We don't talk. There's not much to say.

_And Aang…_

I don't think Aang sleeps at all. He tosses and he turns. During the march, he wipes tears from his eyes. The men avoid him. They all respect him, but they also fear him. They remember glowing blue eyes and a voice like thunder, echoing through the night. I want to stop them, tell them, make clear that he's just a boy, just a kid, just like them, only…

_None of them are boys anymore…_

_ I can't help but think of them as __**my boys**__, though…_

We stick to the countryside, cut across fields and streams, ford rivers and tramp through forests. We avoid people as much as possible. The few scattered villages we find are full of locked doors and doused lights. People run the other way when they see us. No one questions us, but no one seems inclined to try and stop us, either.

We only have to fight once. A small patrol chances upon us, or, rather, we chance upon it. We ambush them. We lose none, but leave eight bodies in our wake. We bury them in a ditch, and press on. We're only a few days out from our destination at that point, though I don't think anyone is aware of that.

It's noon when Sokka comes running back, jumping and screaming and smiling. It's the first smile any of us have seen since the battle. Katara and I see him, race to meet him. He's out of breath, bent over, gasping for air. My heart thumps madly in my throat. I reach down, pull him, hands gripping his shoulders.

"What is it?" I ask. Desperation turns my voice raw and hoarse.

He swallows, gasps. "We made it! The beach is just a few more miles!"

I take a deep breath. My mind reels. Fingers slip between mine. She squeezes my hand; I squeeze back. Katara asks, "Is anybody there?"

Sokka nods. "Not what we hoped, but more than we expected at this point." _Inhale, exhale._ Sweat shines on his face. "Zuko's ship is there, I'm pretty sure I saw Fujita, and a couple other ships, too." He grins, mad and wild. "And guess who else I saw?"

"Who?" I ask.

"_Appa._"

Katara and I turn to each other. I wonder if my eyes are as crazed as hers. We embrace.

_We made it…_

I turn to the column. I draw my sword, raise it high. "Gentlemen!" I cry, voice shaking. "Our destination is just beyond these hills! Friends await us there! Now, are we going to stumble in like the tired wrecks that we are?!"

Seventy dry throats shout. "_**NO!**_"

"That's what I thought! Dress your ranks, and at the quick-step, _march!_"

We run the rest of the way. When we finally see the ocean, more than a few burst into tears.

* * *

So, we made it, or at least, made it to a place that our heroes can stop and fucking _breathe_. That's important.

In my mind, Ozai, being an arrogant prick, no longer sees his son and his son's incipient rebellion as a threat. After all, Ozai sees only in terms of strength. He's beaten his son, thus, to him, his son is weak, since someone like Ozai only sees strength in terms they understand. So, he's probably kicking back in Miyako, sipping his fine wine and laughing himself silly at his stupid son running around in the back-of-beyond with a handful of ragged men and boys. Why worry?

For the curious: Miyako was the old name of Kyoto, which is basically the old Imperial capital of Japan. I just liked that better than, say, _Caldera City_, or whatever-the-fuck they tried to name the Fire Nation capital in the show.

In the next chapter, Zuko swoons!


	38. Chapter 38

38. WE FIND LOBSANG AND FUJITA ON THE BEACH, WALKING AWAY FROM AN ABANDONED PAI SHO GAME. There are three ships drawn up on the beach, my own and two other Fire Nation ships. There's a small camp, pitched just beyond the tideline, about a hundred-and-fifty men all together. The camp is orderly, alert. Armed sentries patrol the beach, and no man is without armor and a weapon. They're just coming down from beating to arms when we crest the final hill and come down to the shore. Once they know who were are, they relax, and Fujita and Lobsang come out to greet us.

There are tears in Fujita's eyes as he first bows, then embraces me. He wipes them away. "We were beginning to worry that we'd lost you, little lord."

I nod. "Yeah, you and me, both."

He looks over my men, all standing rigidly at attention, ranks perfect and dressed. "Your boys been in a fight?"

I grimace. "A bad one."

He smiles. "Aren't they all?" He stands back, crosses his arms. "Now, what're your orders, your Grace?"

I wave towards the column. "My boys need food, rest, and probably a bath." I raise my sleeve to my face, take a whiff. "In fact, I think we _all_ need a bath."

Lobsang chuckles. "Well, then you're in luck, young man. We happen to be at the edge of a rather spacious bathtub."

It's a weak joke, but I laugh nonetheless. The exhaustion is finally catching up to me. My head feels light, airy, empty. The world is hazy along the edges of my vision. My ears ring. My eyes burn. Everything feels thick, hazy. I have so many questions, but the words feel think and sharp in my throat. I feel confused. The world starts to spin. My stomach feels like a yawning pit of fire.

"My lord?" Fujita's voice? Or Piandao's? Maybe Lobsang's? I don't know. They all seem so far away. "Are you alright?" The voice again.

Someone speaks. They sound like me. _Are they?_ "See to our boys, my men. We have to see to the men. Get them sleep. Sleep first. We'll deal with everything else after that."

"Of course, your Grace." Piandao? Fujita? Someone else? "My lord, you should sit down. You're not well."

"I'm fine." _Is that really me? I sound so old…_ "The men. My boys. See to my boys first."

There's a roar in my ears, louder and louder. My vision darkens. Like walking through a cave. The ground rushing up to meet me. The sand, warm sand. The ocean beats against the shore. Then, dark arms catch me. Long, dark hair tickles my face. A hand on my face. Tears on my face. Katara's voice. I know that voice.

_I don't mistake that voice…_

"Zuko…?"

"_Zuko…?"_

_**"ZUKO?!"**_

I fall.

* * *

See? Told you that Zuko was going to swoon.

Often, in times of stress or hardship, people go without for a long time with no problem. They function on adrenaline, force of will, and the like. You'd be amazed what people can tolerate and accomplish when they simply have no choice but to do so. But then, when they get the chance to stop, it all comes crashing in and they fall to pieces for a little bit. I think most people know what I'm talking about. It's where the phrase, _power through it_, comes from.

In the next chapter, Zuko dreams, and Katara gets mad.


	39. Chapter 39

39. IT'S VERY DARK AND VERY COOL. I don't know where I am. The world comes to me in fits and starts, like echoes off a wall. Snippets and snatches, here, there. I'm being carried. Sokka. Sokka is carrying me. Men and boys, baring their heads, bowing. Someone running beside. She's holding my hand. She's shouting orders. My men snap to her commands. She sounds terrified, but that can't be right. _Not her. Not my Katara. She doesn't get scared._ I'm carried into a tent, someone's stripping off my clothes. I keep trying to get up, but hands hold me down. I try to argue, but words won't form. Someone spouts gibberish in a voice that sounds like mind. I feel heavy, weighted down. Someone tells me to rest. A cool cloth on my head. Warm broth down my throat. I don't want to rest. A voice. Katara's.

_Rest…_

_ For me…_

I close my eyes.

_I dream…_

Dreams flash by me in tattered shreds, a shattered reality tinkling like broken glass all around me. I float, fly, fall, glide, sink, swim, through the muck and the mire of my mind. Faces flit by me in the dark, faces angry and kind. Azula, laughing. My mother, looking sad, _so sad_. _I never really saw her smile._ My father, judging, disappointed. Zhao, snarling as the water takes him. Men and boys, shouting my name. Sokka, smiling. Toph, rolling her eyes. Aang, flying around on a ball of air. Catacombs glittering in the dark. A young woman, her fingertips brushing my scar. Her eyes. _So kind…_

_ Katara…_

The scene shifts. The world lurches beneath me. Spins, swirls. Colors, colors in the wind. My world in shreds and tatters. _My hope in shreds and tatters…_

The court. They watch. _They laugh, or at least, in my mind they do._ My father stands before me. He smiles. I know this is bad. My father only smiles when he's hurting someone.

"So, my son, you say the man who came up with this plan is a fool?"

I bow. _I look so young! What happened to me?!_ "I do, Father. It is a pointless waste of life."

He arches an eyebrow. "You object to the loss of life?"

I remain bowed. "I object to the _needless_ loss of life."

He laughs. "It is not needless if I deem it to be otherwise."

"I respectfully disagree."

His laughter dies, but not his smile. "You challenge me?"

I shake my head. "No, Father. I only disagree."

His eyes flare, not with anger, but with joy. "It _sounds_ like a challenge, _boy_."

I shake my head. I keep shaking. "It is not, Father, I promise you."

"_I say it is!_" His voice snaps through the air like a whip. I flinch from it. He steps towards me. "If you would challenge me, do not hide behind words like a coward. _Be a man! __**Face me!**_"

I keep shaking. Tears burn in my eyes. "I do not challenge you, Father."

He laughs, cold, hard. "You think you're better than me, that's it. You think you're smarter than me, but you're too weak to prove it. Well, it's time you proved it. Stand, Zuko!"

I stand.

"Defend yourself!"

I shake my head.

"No, Father, I will not."

His eyes flare. Hate radiates from him in waves. I can feel it, a warmth on my face. _The only warmth I've ever felt from my father._ "_**What?!**_"

"I will not fight you."

He scoffs. "Then you are no son of mine."

_He raises his hand…_

_ Lightning…_

_ The court looks away…_

_ I remember that now…_

_ Only Azula laughs…_

_ The others look away…_

_ The last thing I see…_

_**Uncle…**_

I'm awake.

I'm under a blanket. The walls of the tent snap in the ocean breeze. I can hear the sea, roaring around me. I'm on a soft pallet. My chest is bare. I'm not alone. Someone's here, hair like a pillow across the bed, a warm soft face on my chest, fingertips tracing patterns. I raise my hand, lay it on hers. She stops, looks up, eyes wide. Tears fill her eyes. "_Zuko?_" she whispers.

I smile. "_Hey, Katara. You alright?"_

She's on top of me, straddling me, holding my face in her hands. Kisses on my forehead, my eyelids, my cheeks, my nose, my mouth, the last long and hungry. She rests her forehead against mine, tears streaming down her face, trembling like a leaf. "Don't you _ever_ do that to me again."

I smile. "I'll try not to."

She sniffs, smiles back. "You had us worried _sick_, you know that?"

I close my eyes. "I'm sorry…I can't imagine what the men think of me…"

She laughs, nuzzling into my face. "They think you walk on water and they're worried sick and I'm the only person they let stay in here. Everyone else gets chased out after a few minutes, to let you rest." She kisses me. "They're going to go fucking _nuts_ when I tell them you're alright."

I kiss her. I wrap my arms around her. My heart fills; it hurts in my chest. My eyes burn.

_My men…_

_ My boys…_

_ My friends…_

_ My Katara…_

"I'm sorry for the fuss," I mutter.

She's kisses me over and over. "No sorries! I don't even want to _know_ when you last slept! _And giving your rations to the younger boys?! There's a few of them outside, they won't leave until they know you're alright, they feel so bad!_" She's laughing and crying and kissing me. "If I didn't like you so much, _I'd fucking kill you!_"

"Yeah, well, you know me." I'm kissed her face, her neck, her collarbones. I'm tugging at her shit. She's stripping it off. "I don't do things by halves."

"_Gods,_ isn't _that_ the fucking truth." She's tossing the blanket off. She reaches behind to un-tie her chest wrapping. I reach up, stop her.

"Katara?"

"Yes?"

"We can't stay here long. I have to go save my uncle."

She laughs. "Fucking duh. We already figured you'd want to do _that_. What do you think we've been waiting on you for? _Our health?_ You think we've just been sitting around worrying about you? _Please._" She leans down, nibbles my ear. "Now, first thing's first, I want my reward for all my girlfriend-y devotion, you got that? _And I better be satisfied, after what you've put me through._"

I nibble her neck. "Your wish is my command."

"Damn right."

* * *

I was going to take a break, because I've been at this a while tonight and I want a beer, and I don't want to cut too much into my lead on you guys, but I just couldn't bear to leave you on a cliff-hanger. Plus, this bit, though it gets dark, ends on a cute note. And you know what? _I think we needed a fucking cute note._ I think you will all agree.

I like the idea that, over the years, Zuko has imagined the day his father hurt him in ways that fit his insecurities and self-loathing. We all imagine our childhood scars in ways that fit our mental image of ourselves at the time. Part of coming to terms with things that have happened to us is gaining the distance and maturity to see the reality of these events. This is a story, and that means the characters change over time. Katara's learning to let someone care for her as much as she cares for others; Sokka's really turning into a man; Toph's making peace with who she is; Aang is growing the fuck up.

And Zuko? Zuko is learning to have as much faith in himself as others do, a part of that is seeing his past through kinder eyes. He's starting to see his country and his past as it is and was; he's starting to really accept and come to terms with the fact that his father is a monster.

_And that means that he has to go save his uncle._

In the next chapter, we begin the build-up to my version of the _Boiling Rock_ episodes. I hope you guys are still with me!

(Side note: I'm a horribly insecure writer. That's why I keep trying to guilt-trip you along on this road with me. What can I say? I'm Catholic.)


	40. Chapter 40

40. THE TENT GETS A LITTLE CROWDED, BUT WE FIT. The first thing Toph does upon entering is to wave a hand before her and say, "Damn, you two, can't open a window?" Even Aang chuckles at that. Katara just rolls her eyes around her smile and tells the girl to pipe down.

It turns out that I've only been gone for about a day-and-a-half, but from the way my men react, one would think that I'd been on death's door for a month. Grown men openly weep, and when Katara finally lets me out of the tent, I discover that she wasn't exaggerating about the boys from my column standing some sort of vigil for me. At one point, one of the boys I'd given one of my rations throws himself at my feet and begs my forgiveness. It's hard not to smile as I reassure him. My walk through the camp is greeted by cheers and bows. Even the non-Fire Nation men join in the revelry. A sort of chant follows us around, a rhythmic drumming of our names:

_Zu-ko! Katar-a!_

_**Zu-ko! Katar-a!**_

It's hard not to enjoy it.

There are nine of us in the tent, ranged in a circle along the inside wall. At the head of the circle sit Katara and I, her hand tightly gripping mine; no one challenges her place, or even seems to think about it. On my other side sits Aang, and then Toph, Sokka, a man named Kuupik (whose presence I'll get to in a minute), Lobsang, Fujita, Piandao, and then, once again, back to Katara and I. Smoke hangs heavy in the air, even with the tent flap open. Only Aang and Piandao refrain from puffing away; the rest of us light up and enjoy a few moments of smoke-filled silence.

"So," Toph says, smiling, "enjoy your nap?"

Aang swallows a snort while I say, "I must say, it was refreshing. Invigorating, even."

"I'll say," Katara mutters, to which her brother rolls his eyes.

I cough. "Indeed. That said, I do seem to have…_missed_…a few things. For example," I turn to Kuupik, bow, "I was unable to greet our new guest, General Kuupik."

Kuupik bows back. "No offense taken, m'lord." He straightens himself, puffs on his pipe. He's a thin, wiry man, hard and lean. He's dressed in Fire Nation clothes, but he wears the distinctive Water Tribe warrior's ponytail. Around his neck is tied a water pendant hung from a choker, marking him as a waterbender. As I have already learned, he hails from the Northern Water Tribes, here in command of two ships captured at the Siege of the North, but crewed by Northern warriors. "I saw the state you and your men were in. It's a wonder you all didn't drop dead on that march."

Piandao looks down. "Some of us did…"

Kuupik bows his head. "And we sing songs to their sacrifice."

"Thank you," Piandao whispers. Katara tightens her hold on my hand. _Or I tighten mine._ It's not clear who's comforting whom. _It never is…_

"Before we get to that, though," Aang says, eyes sad, "I think we should take a moment to listen to my brother here."

Sokka's eyes go wide as he turns on Lobsang. "Wait…_brother?_ Aang's your freaking _brother?!_"

Lobsang chuckles. "Not directly, no, but all Air Nomads are brother and sister to each other, at least, philosophically speaking."

"I bet _that_ gets complicated," Toph cracks.

Aang sighs. "It does make for confusing discussions when outsiders are around."

Sokka rubs his chin. "I can see how that would be the case…"

"_Anyways,_" Katara cuts in, "as our old friend Lobsang was saying…"

Lobsang smiles, bows. "Indeed. The first of my journey went according to plan. I was greeted warmly in the North. Chief Arnook was already preparing to commit a major army to the war in the Earth Kingdom, so it wasn't hard to secure some men for our little invasion. From there, I proceeded directly to the Western Air Temple, to wait for word." His face falls. "I didn't have to wait long…"

"Who came to you?" I ask.

"As you know, there were several of my brothers in the invasion fleet. When the fleet was turned back, one of them took flight and came to me."

"So," Katara asks, "what happened?"

_I squeeze her hand. She squeezes back._

"And is our father safe?" Sokka adds.

Lobsang nods. "As far as I know, Chief Hakoda is alive and as well as can be expected. In the end, the invasion force was simply too large to escape notice. Any attempt to enter Fire Nation waters was met with resistance. After a week or so, it was decided that it would be better to turn back, especially after one of the ships was captured. At that point, we had to assume that the Fire Nation was fully aware of our plans. It was then that I decided to head here, try to salvage something, or at least warn you."

"That's where I come in," Kuupik says, leaning forward. "I was bringing a force of a thousand warriors in captured ships when Lobsang spotted us out at sea. When he told me what had happened, I sent all but the hundred currently with me here back home."

"Why did you continue on?" Piandao asks.

Kuupik smiles. "When Lobsang told me of the Fire Nation men who were risking so much to help us, I couldn't stand the thought of leaving them out in the cold." He bows his head. "It seemed the honorably thing to do."

I bow to him. "And for that, we thank you."

A moment of silence, long, pregnant. We all look to the center of the tent, into the sand, past it. We delve deep into our thoughts, deep into our worries, our insecurities, _ourselves._

Characteristically, Toph comes up for air first. "So, that's it? We're boned?"

"Of course not," I say. "We still have a mission. My father has to go down, preferably before the spring. It's just going to take a few more steps to get there."

Toph nods. "Sounds good. What's the next step, then?"

"Save Zuko's uncle, of course," Aang replies.

Kuupik frowns. "_Uncle?_"

Fujita smiles. "General Iroh, _the Dragon of the West._" His smile fades. "Every day he remains in chains is a stain on our honor."

"And now," Piandao adds, "we must prepare for a long struggle. If we are to wage a civil war, we could do no better than to have General Iroh leading our armies." He bows to me. "Apologies, your Grace."

I laugh. "None needed. I'm a soldier, and maybe someday a king, but not a general. A true leader knows when to turn to those who know more than he does."

Kuupik grins. "I think I'm going to like this new Fire Lord."

"Well, _duh_," Toph snarks. "Sparky fucking _rocks_." She giggles at her little pun.

"Thanks for the voice of confidence, Toph," I say.

She flips her hair. "You're welcome."

"Heh..." I turn to the others. "Now, from what Katara has told me, I understand there's already something of a plan."

Piandao nods. "Indeed. With our original plan no longer viable, it seemed vital to _roll with the punches_, as young Sokka put it. Rescuing General Iroh seemed a logical choice."

"Plus," Fujita says, gesturing at Katara, "the Lady Katara made clear that _that_ would be the course you'd wish to embark upon."

I turn to Katara. "Been ruling in my place?"

Aang laughs. "Katara's been _super _bossy. Just like old times!"

"A real _Sugar Queen_," is how Toph puts it.

Katara shrugs. "Well, your men keep calling me _Fire Lady_; it's hard not to act the part after a while."

I sigh. "Can't leave you alone for a _second_…" I turn to Piandao. "So, what did you come up with?"

Piandao points at Sokka. "Once more, I defer to young Sokka."

Sokka blushes, rubs the back of his neck. "Well…it wasn't much. I mean, our plan was already half-stealth anyways, so why not go all the way?"

I nod. "So, a small seam, up the cliffs, in and out?"

"Precisely, Sokka says. "I was thinking, say, you and me. Head up under cover of night, break into the bunker, grab your uncle, and scram."

"Indeed," Piandao says, "that's the easy part. The hard part is getting back out again."

I rub my chin. "That would be the problem. If my uncle is sick or hurt, he won't be able to go back down the cliffs, and if we're being pursued, we can't risk the climb, anyways."

"And I doubt the exit would fail to attract attention," Kuupik observes.

"We'd take our ships in to get you," Fujita says, "but I doubt that will help much, if there's even so much as a single Royal Guard vessel to challenge us. We'd win, but there'd be too much delay."

"I could just drop half the peninsula into the sea," Toph offers. "That should buy us some time."

Katara shakes her head. "Too risk, even for you. There's too much that can go on when trying to bend that much."

Toph huffs. "You guys, never letting me have my fun…"

Sokka gasps. "We let you have plenty of fun!"

Toph crosses her arms. "Not that _I _can see."

"Well," Sokka replies, "if you'd just open…your…_eyes…__**gods-dammit…**_"

Toph giggles, while Kuupik blinks and says, "Wait…what now?"

"Was that really necessary, young lady?" Piandao asks.

"You bet!" Toph answers.

"I'd have to agree with her," Fujita says, chuckling.

Sokka just grumbles.

Then Aang raises his hand. "How about I just give you guys a lift?"

Silence, loud and clear as a bell. Eight pairs of eyes round on the Avatar. Even Lobsang looks a bit rattled. Aang blushes under the attention, runs his hand through his hair.

"Are you sure?" Katara asks. "You realize what that would mean, right?"

Aang shrugs, rubs the back of his neck. "That I'll be landing Appa in the middle of what could be a very sticky situation? Well…_yeah_. But…this has to be done, right? We owe it to Zuko _and_ his uncle." He smiles. "And besides, it's _exactly_ the kind of hare-brained, half-planned heroic caper that we all know I love, so why not?"

Toph leans over. "You really think you can handle this, Twinkletoes?"

Aang sighs. "Well…if the battle made me realize anything, it's that I can't be the Avatar and expect everyone else to do the fighting for me, just so I can preserve what I imagine my principles to be." He turns to me, smiles. "And you know what? This is a choice I can feel good about."

I reach over, ruffle his hair. Katara squeezes my hand. I squeeze back.

_Uncle, here we come…_

* * *

Hey guys! I'm back! I mean, I know, it's been so long since yesterday, but still…

Just a word of warning: I'd be very surprised if you guys got an update tomorrow. I'm going to Austin for the day, as a facilitator for this field trip thing (for those not in the know, Austin is the Texas state capital, and I'm basically going to be a glorified tour guide/babysitter), and that's going to take all goddamn day. If I'm even _somewhat_ functional when I get back, I'll be very surprised, so you guys will have to wait until Thursday.

Or, at least, until the next chapter or two I throw up, and _then_ Thursday. I know I've spoiled you, but still…

So, yeah, back to the chapter: We're back in action, ladies and gentlemen. We're going to go get Iroh, and then we're going to go to war. For those not up-to-date on their ATLA lore, I'm having Sozin's Comet come around in the spring. To give you a little preview, the last day of the war is going to be the bloodiest since the first, and everyone involved are going to have to make some tough choices before it's over.

Also, I've gotten a surprising number of people asking if we're going to see Hanna. The answer: Yes, we are, but not for a little bit. Stay tuned!

In the next chapter, we learn the plan!


	41. Chapter 41

41. EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, I ADDRESS THE ENTIRE COMPANY. There are a little over two-hundred-and-twenty of us, a strange mix of Water Tribe Warriors, grizzled sailors, tall young men and peach-fuzzed boys. It makes for a strange army, but I suppose that this has, in general, been a strange war. One has only to look at my unlikely little band to see _that_.

The fleet and the majority of the company, I explain, will return to the south. There, Kuupik and his men will split off and head to the Earth Kingdom, while Piandao and Fujita will begin raising the south in my name. My men grumble, until I remind them that I will need a relatively secure place to bring my uncle to. There will be no more sudden strikes or strokes of brilliance. Now, we are at _war._ My men are calmer once they realize that I'm not just sending them away, that I'm relying on them, _trusting them_, and they become downright giddy when Katara steps up and thanks them for their sacrifice. A lone soldier raises his sword, shouts, "_To the future with Zuko and Katara!_" That sets off a chant, several minutes long. Even the Water Tribesmen join in:

_Zu-ko!_

_ Katar-a!_

_**Zu-ko!**_

_** Katar-a!**_

It takes a while to calm then, and then I tell them the rest. My original party and I will travel by air to the peninsula where my uncle is being held. There, Sokka and I will sneak in, grab my uncle, and, if all goes well, be saved in the nick of time by the Avatar. At that point, I cede the floor to Aang, who steps up, head bowed. When he speaks, he speaks with a full, clear voice, hovering awkwardly along the line between boy and man. He speaks with his head bowed and his hands clasped before him.

_I will never forget his words…_

"Citizens of the world, I stand before you today to apologize. Again and again, I have shirked my responsibilities, _but no more_. No longer will I let others fight their battles for me. No longer will I run away from the consequences of my actions." He raises his head, looks into their eyes. "This is my promise to you. I pursuit of this promise, I go into battle with the _true_ Fire Lord." He bows, deep, from the waist. "I pray only that you can all forgive me for my mistakes, and allow me to do my best to atone for them."

The call goes up. Spears are thumped on the ground. The chant, loud and clear, from every throat:

_Zu-ko!_

_ Katar-a!_

_ Ava-tar!_

_**Zu-ko!**_

_** Katar-a!**_

_** Ava-tar!**_

The gang mounts the platform, arm-in-arm, and we bow. The crowd goes wild. Swords thump spears, spears thump the ground. My men demand a kiss. Katara and I give it to them. I like to imagine that it'll make up for them having to leave at dawn the next morning.

_And give them a pleasant memory to cling to after tonight…_

* * *

And with that, Aang finally grows the fuck up. About damn time, right? Now, I know it can sound harsh, I mean, he is only _fifteen fucking years old_. But on the other hand…he's the Avatar. He had to stop letting others do the fighting for him, and he had to learn that not all principles are equal, when push comes to shove. Sometimes, the principle that _all people have a right to live in peace_ _and freedom_ is more important than the principle that _all people deserve a second chance,_ or the principle that _I shouldn't have to kill anyone because I really don't want to._

Now, at the end, there's a little teaser sentence. I'm curious if anyone's caught on to what's going to happen that night. It's going to be rough.

Thus, in the next chapter, some questions are answered! Stay tuned!

Also, Fun Fact: My girlfriend is currently watching the series for the first time, because she wants to get all the little in-jokes in this story. Her opinion? _I like your version better._ Cool, eh? And she's a tough audience, kids.


	42. Chapter 42

42. WE CATCH THE TRAITOR AT MIDNIGHT. He waits until the camp seems to be asleep, then makes a break for it. He doesn't get far. Kuupik's men are waiting for him; one of them puts an arrow through his leg. They dress his wound as painfully as possible, and on the way in, some of my boys take possession of him. By the time he's dragged before me, he can barely stand, and he's pale from the pain.

_At least, pale in the places where my boys haven't beat him…_

My boys have knocked together a makeshift throne, placed it on the platform from which I made my speech earlier. Fujita and his men drag out the chest, and two of my boys help me into my royal armor. I sit on the throne, surrounded by low-burning torches, in full regalia, my bared personal sword across my lap. Everyone has dressed up for the occasion, the Water Tribesmen in their armor, my men and my boys in theirs. Furious eyes blaze from behind eye slits. Every other man carries a spear, and the others carry torches. All the torches burn low. The night seems to flicker and dance with the wind.

No one moves. No one speaks. Only the flames snap and hiss in the air, only the waves ebb and flow. To my right on the platform stand Piandao and Fujita, to my Kuupik and Aang. Behind me is Katara, her hands on my shoulders. Before the platform are Toph and Sokka. Sokka's knuckles are bone white as he clenches the hilt of his sword.

It's Muto who brings the limping man staggering between the ranks. Muto, faithful Muto, my former door guard. He has no smiles now. His face is set, his teeth grinding in his mouth. He tosses the traitor to the ground, levels his spear, pricks the man's back with the point. Sokka steps forward, draws his sword, crouches down, places the blade under the man's chin.

"I think," Katara says, "we need more light."

I nod. "Indeed." I close my eyes, focus, and, with a _whoosh_, every torch flares to full life. It's a cheap bit of theater, I know, but necessary. The Water Tribesmen flinch, but my men? My boys? They don't even _blink_. It's hard to hide my pride.

_I try to hold on to it…_

The man's face is fully lit, as clear as day. Tears sparkle in his eyes. Fujita closes his eyes, breathes deep, looks up again, eyes filled with shame. Katara's hands squeeze my shoulders.

_I know this man…_

"Captain Fujita?" I say.

Fujita is shaking, his face red, his eyes on fire. "Yes, your majesty?"

"Do you know this man?"

"Yes, your majesty."

"Tell me his name, so all may hear."

Fujita looks away. "Tachibana, your majesty. A member of our crew."

I nod. "_Tachibana._"

Tachibana bleeds. He's covered in bruises. He trembles like a leaf. Tears trickle down his face. His eyes are full of pain and shame.

"Tachibana," I say, "how long have you known me?"

"Over four years, m'lord."

He screams. Muto has jammed the spear into his back. Muto's face is wild with anger. "_You will call him __**your majesty**__, dog!_"

Aang makes a face, but says nothing.

_I feel nothing…_

_ I've gone far away…_

_ I'm the Fire Lord now…_

Tachibana sniffles. "Apologies, your majesty."

"Don't apologize to me, Tachibana. Just tell me: Have you been a spy all that time?"

He shakes his head. "No, your majesty."

"When, then? When did you turn against your friends?"

"After the Siege of the North, after you and your uncle fled. The Captain, he brought us back to the Homeland after that, to go into the opium trade, so we could keep going back-and-forth without raising suspicion. He gave us some liberty that weekend, so I went out, got drunk." He heaves a sob, almost vomits, and still, I feel nothing. "Two men came and grabbed me. They dragged me off somewhere, a dark room. They beat me. Then…then…"

"Then what?" I growl. I know what's coming. I can feel it, static in the air, hair standing on my neck.

_A name I don't want to hear…_

"Princess Azula came to me…"

Gasps and grumbles ripple through the Fire Nation half of the assembly. Whispers, taunts.

_That bitch…_

_ That crazed whore…_

_ You betrayed us for __**that?!**_

_They say she's a witch…_

Piandao's voice, cracking like a whip.

"_Silence!_"

I thank him. He bows. Images flash through my mind.

_A sweet little girl…_

_ Reading…_

_ Running…_

_ Playing with turtle-ducks…_

Katara squeezes my shoulder. I nod.

_I focus…_

"Go on."

He looks away. "She told me what I was to do. I was to report what I knew about where you were, and if you ever came to us again, I was to tell her as soon as possible."

_No wonder she knew were in Ba Sing Se…_

"Did she pay you?"

He shakes his head. Tears roll down his face in a constant stream. "No, your majesty. She…she said she'd kill my family, my parents, my sister, my brothers, nieces, nephews, _all of them_." He looks up at me, pleading in his eyes. "If you saw the look in her eyes, you'd know it was true. That she'd do it, and laugh while she did."

I nod. "I know. Were there any others?"

He shakes his head. "Not that I know of. I was told not to tell anyone, not take anyone into my confidence. I was to post a letter every time we came back to the Homeland. The last one I posted was after we dropped you in Tochigi. I was alone."

_We'll just have to go with that…_

"Tachibana?"

"Yes, your majesty?"

"I feel for you, I really do. I know my sister, what she's capable of. I'm sorry you were caught in her snare. Any man here could've suffered the same. That said…we can't allow you to live. Do you understand?"

He bows his head. "Of course, your majesty."

I nod, stand. "Any objections? I welcome your thoughts, friends."

"I have a question," Fujita says, turning on Tachibana. "Why have we never been attacked here? I told the crew as soon as we knew from Fire Lord Zuko."

Tachibana sighs. "I never put that in the letter. I thought…I dunno…maybe…maybe I could save us, at least."

Fujita clenches his fists. "That just makes it worse."

Tachibana nods. "I know."

Fujita turns back to me. "Kill him, your Grace. Better yet, let me kill him, and erase the dishonor to my crew."

I bow my head. "There is no dishonor to erase. If anyone will be doing any killing tonight, it will be me." I reach out, pat his shoulder. "Anyone else have something to say?"

Aang clears his throat. "Is there any way to spare his life? Any at all…"

Piandao shakes his head. "Either we kill him now, or we leave him here to await Azula's mercy."

Aang nods, looks away. "Then it's better that he dies here, as much as I hate myself for saying it."

I sigh. "Very well." I take up my sword, step down from the platform. No one stops me. The torches roar in the wind. No one speaks, no one cries, no one looks away. It's very quiet. Even the ocean seems muted, far away. Sokka moves aside as I step to Tachibana, look down. "Say your prayers, former friend. Make your peace with the gods."

He nods, bows his head, his lips move, whispers.

_Agni preserve…_

I move to his side, raise my sword high in the air. "If any man objects, or can think of a reason why this man should live, speak now, or live forever in silence!"

_Silence…_

_ Agni protect…_

I grip the sword in my hands. I lower it to his neck. He flinches from the steel. The blade flashes black fire in the torchlight. The stars glimmer like fireflies in the night sky.

_Agni defend…_

I look to Katara. She stands behind the throne. She looks deep into my eyes. She is the only one not in their native garb, resplendent in formal Fire Nation robes obtained by my crew on the trip to this beach.

_You're the only one who can stop this,_ my eyes say.

She nods. _I know. Now do your duty, and come to bed._

I nod, look down.

_Agni forgive…_

"Former friend Tachibana, are you ready?"

He nods, stretches out his neck.

"I am. Forgive me, your grace."

"You are forgiven. Go in peace."

He closes his eyes.

"_Thank you._"

I raise my sword. I bring it down. A head goes rolling through the sand. Fujita raises the cry.

_Thus always to traitors!_

My men, my boys, chant it back.

_Thus always to traitors!_

I don't sleep again that night. My scar aches too much. I lay my head in Katara's lap while she runs her fingers along it.

_It's a long time before it stops hurting…_

* * *

So, funny thing: I didn't know there was a traitor in the crew for some time. It kind of snuck up on me. So if you guys are surprised by this plot twist, imagine how I felt a week ago. I thought about keeping him around, but the thing is, the Gaang would've cottoned on by now, and they wouldn't be able to keep going without taking care of it. So, a head goes rolling along the sand, and that's that.

I like that Aang is still being himself. He's accepted that death will be a part of this war, and that he's going to have to come to terms with his part in that, but he doesn't have to like it, though as much as he doesn't like it, even he knows it wouldn't be much in the way of _mercy_ to leave the guy for Azula to find.

In the next chapter, it's just us and the Gaang, on a beach!


	43. Chapter 43

43. THE NEXT NIGHT WE SPEND ALONE ON THE BEACH. Just the five of us, like old times. The rest left at dawn. Fujita weeps openly, still reeling from Tachibana's betrayal. He's deeply shaken. It takes every trick I know to convince him that I still trust him. It's true, but he's determined to take the matter of Tachibana as a personal mark on his honor. He still has tears in his eyes as he leaves.

Kuupik bows to me when he leaves. He smiles, and informs me that, in light of the past weeks, he formally renounces every unkind thing he had ever said about the Fire Nation and its people. I tell him that that's not necessary, that he's more than justified in being bitter, but he waves my response away.

My boys are the hardest parting. Many weep as they board the ships. Several beg me to let them go on the mission. I politely decline them all. I'm tempted, of course, but stealth is the ultimate goal, and two are simply better than even three, especially since the two who are going to climb the cliffs have been fighting and training together for months now.

"Plus, one of them is banging the other's sister, which is bound to help the team spirit," is Toph's way of putting it.

Piandao is brave and calm, as usual, though his eyes give him away. There's a gleam there, a hint of sadness. I don't think he expects us to return, but he takes his orders like a soldier and offers no complaints.

Lobsang has the most interesting way of parting. He simply embraces us all, wishes us well, and bounds aboard my own ship. Aang doesn't seem too thrown off; as he tells it, Air Nomads don't really believe in _goodbye_. Theirs has always been a nomadic culture, full of partings and long absences. Why say goodbye? Goodbye implies that you won't see each other again. When we point out that Lobsang said fairly involved farewells to us the last time he parted, so long ago, he shrugs and smiles. "Well, I dunno, then. This will probably come as a shock to you, but Air Nomads can be pretty weird. Stunning information, I know." We all have a good laugh at that.

Night comes, and we're all alone, there on the beach. A small fire burns, around which we have formed a circle. Cigarettes blaze in the night. Fujita has left us with two bottles of fire whiskey. We save one for after the mission, but decide to crack open the other right here and now. There doesn't seem to be a reason not to.

"You know," Sokka says, taking a pull of the bottle and passing it to Toph, "I gotta admit, it's nice to have the gang all together, off on our own."

Toph nods, takes a pull, passes it to Katara. "Yeah, I mean, I love those guys, but it's comforting to be back to pulling off stupid shit with just us."

Katara takes a drink, hands the bottle to me. "Saving lives, bounding in and out of trouble, it's what we do."

I take a drink, pass it to Aang. "Though at least you don't have to dodge me anymore."

Aang takes the bottle, examines it in the light of the fire. "You know, Zuko, it never really felt like we were running from you."

"Really?" I ask.

"Yeah," Sokka says, "it always felt more like _you_ were running from _us_."

I laugh. "What are you, my uncle? That's the kind of Zen bullshit he'd say."

Toph smiles. "Well, Sokka _can_ be very Zen-like, in an _idiot savant_ sort of way."

"One of these days," Sokka sighs, "you're going to get tired of making _Stupid Sokka_ jokes."

Toph shrugs. "But what would be the fun in that?"

Katara settles back into my shoulder. "You could always go back to making sexual innuendos at my expense."

Toph scoffs. "Nah. Aang got wise, so it's not as fun anymore."

Aang laughs. "I'm sure we could figure _something_ out. You can go back to trying to flummox Zuko."

"Easier said than done," I point out. "After all this time with you guys, I've become rather immune."

Katara runs a finger around me knee. "I beg to differ."

Sokka points a finger. "Hey, on behalf of my _brother by a different mother_, I'd like to say that that's unfair."

Aang nods. "I'm with Sokka. You have a major advantage over the poor guy. _Every _advantage, really."

Katara looks up at me, eyes big and pouty. "Do I, Zuko? Do I take advantage of you?"

I sigh, look at Sokka and Aang. "See what you two did?"

Toph giggles. "Hey, I've found a new game! Test how much Katara has the future Fire Lord pussy whipped!"

Katara snaps her fingers. "Now _this_ is a game I like!"

Aang shakes his head. "I'm beginning to think you took a bullet for me, Zuko."

Toph smiles. "I think _Katara's_ the one who takes the bullets."

Sokka groans. "You know, Toph, there's such a thing as a _line_, and you exist about a hundred miles beyond it."

"And yet," Toph replies, "you keep being shocked when I remind you of this fact."

"It's kind of like how he keeps forgetting that you're blind," Aang offers.

"Hey!" Sokka crosses his arms. "When did we get back to me?"

I smile. "I don't think they ever really left you, buddy."

He rolls his eyes. "Well, aren't I _lucky_."

"Now as lucky as I am," I say, finishing by kissing the top of Katara's head.

"_Awww_," the group choruses.

Katara scrunches her nose at me. "You see what I mean, Toph? I can _never_ get mad at him."

Aang ponders. "That's a good thing, right? The monks never really covered _relationship etiquette _with me."

Katara laughs. "It's infuriating."

Aang makes a confused face. "Huh? Then why are you smiling?"

"You'll get it eventually," Sokka barks. "Now, pass the fucking bottle!"

Aang looks down at his hands, eyes wide, like he'd completely forgotten that the bottle was there (which is probably the case). He mumbles his apologies, hands it to Sokka, and the banter begins anew.

We leave an hour later, in as high of spirits as it is possible to have. Yeah, we all know that we're probably flying into a trap, but why let that bring us down?

* * *

Hey! I'm back! I honestly didn't know if you guys would get an update today. Yesterday was a bit of a bitch for me, and I'm still worn the fuck out. I thought about making you wait, but tomorrow is Date Night, and then I realized that it was unfair to make you guys wait until Saturday for an update. So, here it is! You'll get at least two more chapters tonight, give you something to peruse when you're supposed to be working tomorrow (or studying tonight, judging from some of my reviewers). So, ta-da!

This chapter and the first half of the next will kind of serve as lulls in the action. Plus, the chance to have the Gaang chilling out all by themselves was too fun to pass up.

In the next chapter, the Gaang wishes Katara happy birthday, and Zuko makes a perceptive observation to Sokka. Stay tuned!


	44. Chapter 44

44. IT WOULD NORMALLY TAKE AT LEAST A WEEK TO GET TO THE PENINSULA, BUT WE MANAGE IT IN ABOUT THREE NIGHTS. Flying does have its advantages. We fly only at night, dozing once more to Appa's groans. Aang is truly back in his element; he's giddy as a schoolboy to at Appa's reins again. He has a goody smile on his face the whole time, and shouts _yip-yip_ with unconcealed glee. He's not quite the pilot Lobsang was, but he more than makes up for it in enthusiasm.

The rest of us are bundles of pure nerves. For all I know, Aang is, too, he's just hiding it better. Still, it's hard not to feel a little envious of him, as the rest of us sit and brood.

Well, I say _the rest of us_, but, really, it's just Sokka, Katara, and I, the _grown-ups_, so to speak. Toph is in pretty high spirits, too. Maybe it's just an adult thing, to be unable to conceal brooding. Maybe teenagers are just better at smiling in times of stress.

The night before Sokka and I are to climb the cliffs, our third night out from the beach, we set down behind a bend in the shore, out of sight of watchful eyes. We have a little party, drinking the rest of that first bottle of fire whiskey. It's not much of a celebration, but it'll have to do. We eat cold fish that Katara caught and cooked the night before, and sing Katara a quiet song. It's the best we can do. At the end, Sokka picks his sister up and hurls her into the sea. We all laugh and cheer as quietly as we can. Katara giggles and smiles, then drags me off out of sight. We sit down in a shallow dip in the ground, across from each other, hands entwined. She smiles in the darkness. I smile back.

"Happy birthday, Katara." I lean forward, kiss her softly.

She smiles, kisses me back. "Thank you, Zuko."

I frown. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you anything."

She winks. "Oh, I beg to differ."

I stick out my tongue. "Besides _that_."

"It satisfies me!"

"Me, too! Still…when I'm Fire Lord, I'm going to throw you the biggest part anyone's ever had."

She rolls her eyes. "I _hate_ big parties."

I jerk a thumb back towards the camp. "Tell that to Toph. She's already putting together the wine list."

She sighs. "Then I suppose I'll just have to resign myself to being wined-and-dined by my boyfriend, the ruler of an entire nation."

I grimace. "Or, at least, what's left of it…"

She reaches out, brushes a thumb along my scar. "Hey, no frowns tonight. It's my birthday."

I smile. "Better?"

She nods. "Better. Now, about my birthday present…"

Afterwards, we lie in the grass, listening to the wind. The night is cool and fresh. It's a lot like that dawn, so many months ago, a hundred miles north of Ba Sing Se. She nuzzles into me, tracing her patterns on my chest as I play with her hair.

"What do you trace?" I ask her.

"Hmm?"

"On my chest. You're always making these little patterns."

"Oh…whatever I want, really. Nothing specific."

"Right on. Don't let me stop you, then."

"Like you could."

"True."

_Pause_.

"Zuko?"

"Hmm?"

"What happens after the war? With this?"

"Well…if we're both still alive, I'd like it to continue, go wherever it's meant to go."

"Good...I'd like that. Though…wouldn't I have to be Fire Lady or something?"

"Hell, Katara, as far as my boys are concerned, you already _are_."

"True, but, I mean, seriously, in reality."

I kiss her forehead. "Only if you want to be."

She burrows deeper. "I like that plan. And if I want to be?"

"I imagine you'll let me know."

"I imagine you're right."

"Nice of you to let me be so from time -to-time."

"Hush."

"Yes, dear."

The next night, we part. Sokka and I wrap ropes and climbing gear around our bodies. Toph hugs the life out of us, while Aang does his best to imitate Sokka's unique brand of _manly embrace_. From Katara, there's a soft kiss on the check for her brother and a decidedly different kiss for me. With that, we all bow to each other, and Sokka and I scamper off along the shore.

Aang's last words are, "So, what's the signal again?"

I shrug, say, "I imagine it'll be hard to miss, whatever it is."

He nods, smiles, and then we're off.

We duck and weave, moving slowly and steadily up the shore. The closer we get, the louder the sounds of an armed camp are. There is no sign of ships or air cover; the garrison appears to have been reduced and relaxed. No doubt my father expects me to run away with my tail between my legs. I focus on that interpretation. I think brave thoughts about how he's about to learn otherwise.

The idea fills me with a comforting fire.

Sokka and I don't speak. We're dressed all in black, communicating by hand signs and pats on the back. We slip through the deepening darkness. There is no moon tonight; thick clouds blot out the stars. We can barely see our hands in front of our faces. We scamper over rocks, around boulders, slowly, carefully around the edge of the shore. We reach a point where the edge of the peninsula is straight across a finger of the sea from us. We shake hands, breathe deep, and slip into the water. It's ice cold, but we press on, swimming towards the cliffs. Sokka gets there first, helping me out of the sea. We look up, climbing claws in our hands. The sight is, for lack of a stronger word, _daunting_, at least two-hundred-feet straight up into the night. At the top, torches glow weakly, giving the cliff a strange, dull-orange crown.

_An omen…_

I can't begin to fathom what it means.

_Uncle would know…_

"Sokka?"

"Yeah?"

We speak, low and breathless. Whispers carry, while lowered voices do not.

"Did it ever occur to you, at any point before now, that this would really fucking suck?"

He shrugs, a black hole in the night shifting its shape.

"Not really, no. I didn't really think about it."

"Of course not. See you at the top?"

"Last one there buys the first round."

We sink our claws into the rock, and we climb. Oddly enough, my scar doesn't ache.

* * *

And we're off! If you're thinking that it's been a bit too easy thus far, well, the Gaang would agree with you. But they have to do something, so why worry about it? I especially like Sokka's reaction. It's classic Sokka, to me.

For those playing the home game, the bit about whispers vs. lowered voices is true. My grandma's oldest brother, Ralph, fought in World War Two (got wounded twice, no less), and I stole quite a bit from his stories to flesh out some aspects of this one. One of things he told me was how simply lowering your voice, oddly enough, is much quieter than a whisper. When you whisper, you tend to pitch your voice higher; this carries surprisingly far, especially on a cool, clear night with a lot of wind. But when you just lower your voice, you're talking the same, only more quietly. This is, apparently, much more effective. I always thought that was a nifty thing, and I've long wanted to work it into a story. Thus, the little moment there. No doubt an editor would make me take that explanation out, but the great thing about this place is that I can tell my inner editor go fuck himself and have some fun.

In the next chapter, Sokka and Zuko make some distressing discoveries, the full depths of Azula's particular brand of insanity are plumbed, Zuko faces a ghost from his past, and shit gets real. Stay tuned!


	45. Chapter 45

45. WE REACH THE TOP AFTER A GOOD HOUR. We're soaked to the bone, ice cold, and our arms feel like they're on fire. On the other hand, we're not dead, so there's that in our favor, and since no one seems to be waiting for us, it appears that we will be able to continue in our current state of _not being dead._

Sokka and I take a moment, breathe, recover our bearings. The area seems very quiet. The garrison is, at the very least, giving the impression of having been reduced. Either that, or it was never that large to begin with. I look about, see no sentries. The watch tower at the tip of the peninsula is unmanned. No airships roar overhead. The silence is a living, breathing _thing_, coiled and slithering in the darkness.

I tap Sokka on the shoulder. We talk in gestures, shrugs, eye rolls.

_I don't like it._

He nods.

_Me, neither. But the fuck else are we to do?_

I roll my head.

_Good point._ I draw my sword. _Let's go._

He draws his. We look left, right, dash across the open ground. A low bunker looms before us, about a hundred feet away, harsh stone frowning in the torchlight. No one sees us. No one raises the alarm.

_Too quiet…_

_ Too quiet…_

_ My scar aches…_

We reach the bunker. The walls are solid, and there are no windows. We look around the back, around the front. A lone guard dozes by the door, the only soul we've seen. I tap Sokka's shoulder. He nods, runs a finger across his throat.

I shake my head. _Too noisy_. I tap my head with a fist.

He nods. We creep to the door. The guard never wakes up. Sokka bashes the base of his skull in with the hilt of his sword, props him up to look asleep.

_Nothing…_

_ Silence…_

The world hums around me. Here in the half-light, I see nothing but dangers, threats glistening in the dark. We slip inside. The door is unlocked. We stand in the doorway. Sokka looks at me. I shake my head, then shrug. He shrugs, then nods.

_We came this far…_

We go inside.

_Darkness…_

We stand in the dark, framed by the door. We step inside, one foot, then another. We barely breathe. Our clothes damp on our backs. Sweat trickles down our spines. The hairs stand on the backs of our necks.

_This isn't right…_

_ My scar aches…_

_ Something's not right…_

_ Something…_

_**There!**_

The door slams shut. Torches flare to life. Ten men, in the bare skull masks and horned helmets of the Royal Guard. Torches blaze in the walls. They surround us. Swords out. Stances at the ready.

_They've been waiting all this time…_

_ I don't know how I know that, but I do…_

I stand up straight. I pull back my hood, pull down my mask. Sokka does the same. We look at each other. We shrug. We have many questions, but they don't matter. We smile. We nod.

_We move…_

A _whoosh_, and Sokka's boomerang buries itself in a man's throat. _Nine._ I shoot a fireball out, and a man lights on fire, screaming. _Eight_. No reason to play _ghost in the night_ now. Sokka buries his sword in a man's stomach. _Seven._ I send a man's head flying. _Six_. We're laughing. I grab Sokka's shoulder, pull him down. A guardsman sees too late, completes his form. Two of his comrades go down screaming. _Five. Four._ A man comes at me. I kick his legs out from under him, drive my sword down into his throat, twist, as Sokka leaps behind me, slashes the throat of the man about to burn me. _Three. Two._ Sokka rolls across the floor, retrieves his boomerang, buries it in the back of a man trying to flee. _One._

_ One…_

He hasn't move. He never even drew his sword. He pulls a scroll of paper from his pocket. The room is thick with the smell of blood and sweat and burning flesh. Blood roars in my ears. Sokka finishes off the man who tried to run, wipes his boomerang clean on his pants. I take the scroll. The man nods, turns, pulls out a set of keys, places them in the lock of the door behind him. Something about the man. Something off. Something familiar…

_Something…_

Sokka beside me. "I don't hear anything from outside. It still sounds quiet. No gonna lie, it worries me. I mean, if this really was a trap, this can't be it. They had to know ten guys wouldn't cut it."

I shrug. "If it's a trap, it's sprung, isn't it? Why rush it?"

He nods. "Makes sense. Probably hoping Aang will show up."

I mull that over as I break the seal on the scroll. "Or our reinforcements."

He frowns. "Yeah…think they'll get here on time?"

I shrug, avoid look at the last man standing. "Don't see any reason why not. All those Northern ships and waterbenders should help smooth things over, no matter when they get here."

Sokka clucks his tongue. "Can't _wait_ to see Arnook's face when I tell him about _this_ little fight. He'll never believe me." He points at the scroll. "What's it say?"

I look down. "Nothing good." I look back up at the man by the door. _What is it about him?_ I clear my throat.

"_Hey, Zu-Zu! Miss me yet?! I hear you've been up to all __**sorts**__ of trouble! Father's sure you'll wuss out before you ever get this far, but I'm not so sure. We both know what you're capable of when you get one of your crazy ideas. So, I took a few extra precautions, did some extra planning. If you made it to the bunker (which I'm sure you did), no doubt you're standing in a room of nine dead bodies and one living one. The living one will open the door to your precious __**Uncle**__. Father really wanted him dead right away, but after the peasants made their little show in Miyako, well, I convinced him that something…well…__**stronger**__ was in order, especially when he heard that there were people who mattered who agreed with the peasants. He's busy, though, so he left me in charge, and boy, has my imagination run __**wild**__. I'm really proud of this show, Zu-Zu! I think you'll love it! Ahead of you are three surprises. One's right in front of you, and the other two are behind the door. I __**so**__ wanted to be there myself, but, alas, duty calls. Father doesn't try to keep __**me**__ away from important things; of course, I don't fuck things up! Still, I hope you don't mind that I can't make it. I __**so**__ wanted a re-match after you sucker punched me in Ba Sing Se. Oh well, though! We don't always get what we want! Lots of love, and say hi to Mother for me when you see her! Ta!_"

Sokka shakes his head. "Holy fuck, man."

"Yeah…still think she's hot?"

"Nah. She's just fucked in the head. Mice handwriting, though."

"She always did do better in school." I close my eyes. "She really loved to read."

He points to a bit at the end. "What's that say?"

I frown. "It's a postscript."

He nods. "Ah…a what now? Nevermind. What's it say?"

"Nothing."

"_Zuko…_"

I sigh. "It says, _PS – I really hope you brought you little water peasant whore. Father __**so**__ wants to meet her! Kisses!_" I crumble the scroll up, hold it out, burn it to ashes in my palm, let them float away. I pull my sword out of the throat of the last man I killed, shake some of the blood off. I look at Sokka. He's purple with rage. "I told you."

He nods. "Be sure to leave that part out next time my sister's playing with your hair."

I scoff. "And what, let you blurt it out at breakfast?"

"Point." He raises his sword, gesturing at the last man standing. "So, what's the surprise."

I shake my head. "Fucked if I know, but I doubt I'll like it." I look at the man, really _look at him._ That niggling little something, there at the back of my mind, it grows bigger, stronger. The way he stands, the way the armor doesn't quite fit, the way he…

_No…_

_ Not even…_

_ She wouldn't…_

_**No…**_

"Mai?"

The helm rises, is tossed to the ground. It rolls across the ground, rattles like an empty saucepan on a tile floor. She looks up at me, tries to smile. As in even the best of times, it doesn't suit her. The effect is even worse now. She looks tired, haggard. Dark circles sag under eyes red from weeping. She has no make-up. The effect is startling. I realize that I never once, in all the time I knew her, saw her anything but perfectly made-up. Her cheekbones jut out like blades. Her face looks wasted, her eyes sunk into her skull. Her hair, the hair she loved so much, that she preened over for hours and hours, is gone, sheared into a soldier's haircut.

"Hey, Zuko."

Sokka looks from her to me and back again. "Wait…_the Mai?_ The one you used to be engaged to?"

I nod. "The very one."

She sighs, runs a hand over what hair she has left. "You're still telling that old story, I see."

I shrug. "Not really. I mean…not that much to tell. Someone special asked, though." I look around, back to her. "The fuck are you doing here, anyways?"

She sags back against the door. "I have no idea. Honest to Agni, I don't. Azula came to me at my husband's home, told me I had to come with her. I said no, of course. I never liked her. You always wanted me to be nice to her, but I couldn't, so I said no, and she dragged me out the front door by my hair. Said I'd make a good _surprise_ for you. Even cut off my hair, just in case some stray strand tried to peek out helmet and tip you off before the big reveal." She looks around at the bodies on the floor. "I think she was hoping you'd accidentally kill me and feel bad."

Sokka steps towards her. "Is she dangerous?"

I shake my head. "Only when she wants to me."

She scoffs. "That's nice of you to say, Zuko, but I stopped playing with knives a long time ago." She looks away. "I only did that to impress you, anyways."

I try on a smile. "Well, it did. For what it's worth."

She nods. Her lips tremble. She wipes tears from her eyes. "Your…your…your _sister_…she said all I had to do was take off my helmet, open this door, shut it again, and run away. I do that, I can go home, but only if I shut it behind you."

"Yeah…I figured it was something like that. What's behind the door?"

She sniffles. "I can't tell you, and I'm too afraid of your sister to risk it." She takes a watery breathe. "Please…just…_just go._ I just want to go _home…_"

I turn to Sokka. "Well? Coming with me?"

He shrugs, smiles. "Came this far…and it's not like we can slip back out. Might as well."

I nod. "_Might as well._" I turn back to Mai. "My lady, if you would be so kind…"

She smiles, tears dribbling down her cheeks. "That's what I always liked about you, Zuko. Always so polite, so thoughtful. I never would've known you didn't really like me if your sister hadn't crowed about it, all the way here. Kept me tied to a chair and made me listen to the whole sad, sorry tale." She turns the key behind her, lets the door swing open. A faint light glimmers from within. "Go on, then. He's been as giddy as a school boy since we told him you were coming."

Sokka and I look at each other. We nod. Unspoken words.

_Love you, man. Let's do this._

We turn to the door. We bow to Mai. She looks away, hand pressed to her mouth. We walk through the door. As I pass, I whisper, "_I'm so sorry, Mai._" She ignores me. The door slams shut behind us. The key turns in the look.

_Darkness…_

Our eyes adjust. A thick-set form, kneeling on the floor. Four torches, burning weakly in the corners. My heart stops. The form looks up at me. It smiles.

"It's good to see you, nephew. You didn't happen to bring some tea, by any chance…?"

I smile. My voice like syrup in my throat. "Alas, no, uncle."

He sighs. "Well, no rescue is perfect."

I nod. "Indeed." I look to his right. There, someone stands, tall and thin, there in the half-light. Brown hair down to her shoulders, a drawn sword in her hand. I blink.

_I don't know her…_

_ What's the surprise?_

"I don't think I've met your friend, uncle."

He smiles. "Ah, yes. You see, this lovely young lady hails from outside of our fair land, nephew. A very interesting, very talented young warrior." He turns his smile on her. "And she makes _excellent_ tea, though her Pai Sho skills leave much to be desired."

"And her name?" I prod. I fight down the urge to smile at how, even here, at what could be end of us all, my uncle just cannot get to the point.

"Ah! How thoughtless of me. Here we are, in the middle of a most foul trap, and I leave out the most important detail. Well, her name is-"

"_Suki_."

I round on Sokka. His eyes are full of pain, hurt, confusion. He looks like I could knock him over with a feather. I've never, in all this time, seen him look so _distraught._

_ Maybe the surprise wasn't for me…_

"What?" I ask.

He simply says it again.

"_Suki. Her name is Suki._"

* * *

Holy fucking shit, guys! It's motherfucking Suki! Bet you didn't see _that_ coming down the pike!

A couple of weeks ago, I was re-reading the _Death of the Family_ arc from Scott Snyder's run on _Batman_. This around the time that my girlfriend pointed out that, for me, at least, Zuko's kind of a Batman-ish figure. Well, with that in mind, I'm re-reading this _fucking amazing_ piece of writing, and suddenly I think, _Hey, you know what? If Zuko's Batman, then Azula's totally the freaking Joker._ So, I started writing Azula with that in mind. The result is this really fucked up little trap that she's devised. Sure, she's covered her bases. The hidden Royal Guardsmen are currently taking position outside. There's really no escape that she could think of in her poorly wired brain. But hey, if she's going to get Zuko killed, why not make sure to break him first? Dredge up some of the ghosts of his past, drag poor Mai into this, with the implication of, _See? See what happens to anyone who even kind of cares about you? This on your head, little Zu-Zu! This is what you get!_ And hey, why not drag in poor Suki, too, fuck with Sokka? Kill two bird with one stone! Azula's efficient in her evil like that.

And what if all the rest of the Gaang shows up? Well, Azula's crazy, but also arrogant like her father. She figures she's got that covered with all the troops outside. I do like the idea that at some point, she was gleefully telling all of this to Ozai, complete with diagrams and pictures and sound effects, and he just kind of sat there and went, _Yeah, whatever, have fun, dear._ I bet he didn't even listen.

So, here we are, in a cell. In the next chapter, tensions mount, and Suki faces an impossible decision. Stay tuned!

Fun Writing Fact: Up until a couple of minutes before I wrote the scene, I fully intended it to be Ty Lee there, but once I thought about it a little more, I realized that Suki fit in much better, not least with all the hints scattered throughout the rest of the story that, of all the girls Sokka might have macked on over the course of their little adventure, Suki's the one that sticks with him. So, there you go, a little picture into the writing process. Woo!


	46. Chapter 46

46. "WAIT," I SAY. "_The_ Suki? The Kyoshi Warrior you keep going on about?"

Sokka nods, slow, deliberate. "Yeah, that's the one."

The girl (_no, __**woman**__; she's at least as old as Sokka and I_) smiles. She has a very pretty smile, even if it's full of pain and sorry. "You go on about me?"

Sokka shrugs. "Well, you left an impression."

My uncle laughs. "With her tea-making skills, I can see why!"

"_Uncle._"

He rolls his eyes. "Ah, youth…"

Sokka steps towards Suki. "Suki, what's going on here? Why are you even _here_?"

Suki closes her eyes. A lone tear rolls down her cheek. The sword in her hand shakes. "When Azula came looking for Aang, she stopped at Kyoshi Island. She…she wanted to see the girls who beat her brother." She turns to me. Her eyes glitter in the torch light. "When we explained that we didn't beat you, that we barely even _fought_, she got…_angry_. I don't know why, she just…_did._ She had the whole island laid waste. We tried to fight." A sob escapes her; she bite down on it. "She must have killed half my sisters before we finally surrendered. She questioned us. Someone told her about…" She turns back to Sokka. "_About you and me._ It was like a light went off in her head. She had me clapped in chains, whistling some weird tune the whole time, and shipped me off to some place called _the Boiling Rock._"

I frown. "I'm so sorry…"

She smiles. "It's not your fault, Zuko."

I clench my fists.

_If it's not, why do people keep having to tell me that?_

_ My scar aches…_

"It's all my fault…"

She shrugs. "No, it's your sister's. She's the one who brought us here." She raises the sword, levels it at my uncle's throat. "She left the rest of my sisters under guard, back at the island. If I don't do as she says, they die. If I follow me orders, they live." She sighs. "It's that simple."

"And what did she tell you to do?" I ask. I don't know why. I suppose there's a script to be followed, though no one gave it to me. I feel cast adrift, floating through a dream, the ghosts of my past hovering in dark corners, there amongst the slithering things.

_Damn you, sister…_

_ Gods __**damn**__ you…_

Suki sniffles. "I'm to slit your uncle's throat. No matter what else happens, whether you get away or not, I'm to make sure the great General Iroh never leaves this room alive, and to make sure you see me do it." Another sob, short and cut off. "She even told me to make sure you two get to talk to each other a bit first."

_Silence…_

_ Darkness…_

_ A little girl, reading in the library…_

_ An aching scar…_

_ Laughter in a glittering cave…_

_ Damn you, Azula…_

_ Her voice…_

_**You damn yourself, Zu-Zu, you damned yourself a long time ago…**_

Sokka takes another step, hand out, fingers spread. "Please, Suki, don't do this."

Suki shakes her head. "I have to…" Tears roll freely down her face.

Sokka moves, another step. His voice cracks. "Please, Suki, you don't want to do this…"

Suki's eyes flare. Spit flies from her mouth. "_Of course I fucking don't! But I have to!"_

I shake my head. I haven't moved. Sounds from outside. _They're waiting. The trap is sprung. _"No, you don't. No matter what you do, my sister's promises are worthless. She'll kill your sisters just because she can."

Suki nods. "I know. But I can't take that chance, now, can I?"

"No," I say, "I suppose not."

Sokka, taking another step. "Please, Suki, listen to me-"

Suki rounds on him. "_Not another step!"_ She grabs my uncle's hair, pulls his head back, bares his throat. All my uncle does is grunt in annoyance. "_You hear me?! Not another step or I do it right fucking now!"_

Sokka stops, lowers his hands. His shoulders slump. His chin meets his chest. "Okay…" He looks to me. "Come on, buddy, do something, _think of something, anything…_"

I nod, look to my uncle. "Uncle?"

He smiles.

_Fucking __**smiles**__…_

"Yes, Zuko?"

"I don't know if I can get you out of this one."

He sighs. "I've been thinking the same thing. Whatever happens, please don't blame yourself; you do that too much already. The young lady is just in an impossible position."

I now. "I know."

His grin grows wider. "Leave this place, find a nice girl, forget about me."

I smile back. It's almost real. "I did find a nice girl, uncle. I wanted you to meet her."

His eyes gleam. "Oh, that makes me so happy, Zuko. I'm sure she's wonderful."

"She is."

He closes his eyes. "I'm glad." His eyes open, joy shining from their depths. "Never forget that I'm very proud of you."

My eyes burn.

_My scar aches…_

"I won't."

He looks to Sokka. "And you, young, don't blame young Suki."

Sokka turns to Suki. Tears fall from his eyes. "I won't. And the girl? She's my sister, and she's awesome."

My uncle's eyes light up. "The young waterbender? _I knew it._ Well, I can die a happy man now, content that Captain Fujita now owes me money." He turns his eyes up to Suki. He looks at her with kindness, compassion, not so much as a _hint_ of malice. "It's time, my friend, the time we talked about before. Did I not tell you that my nephew wouldn't hate you? And I certainly don't. Do what you have to do." He closes his eyes. His lips move.

For the first time in over four years, I pray.

_Agni preserve…_

Suki shakes. Sokka falls to his knees.

_Agni protect…_

Tears fall, hot on the floor. The blade shakes in the torchlight.

_Agni defend…_

"I'm sorry, Sokka." She smiles.

"I'm sorry, too, Suki." He smiles back.

The blade presses against my uncle's throat.

_Agni forgive…_

Silence. The darkness dances.

_Silence…_

A clatter. The blade falls. It's over. Suki, on her knees, face in her hands, crying like a baby. Sokka, on his knees, his arms around her. He holds her, he tells her it'll be okay, _everything will be okay…_

She shakes her head. She can't speak. Her face buried in his chest, her whole body shaking with the sobs, shaking, contorting. I look to the blade.

_No blood…_

My uncle smiles. I smile back.

"Hello, uncle."

"Hello, Zuko. Now, please tell me there's a plan to get us the hell out of here."

"So to speak…"

_Torches dance…_

_ In the darkness…_

_**Light…**_

* * *

I really, really hope I had a couple of you guys there. I had myself there for a minute, and I knew how the damn thing was going to turn out! I do feel bad about what I did to poor Suki, though. My only consolation was the thought of the epic can of whoopass she's going to unleash the second they get back outside.

This chapter speaks for itself, so I'm going to let it stand. In the next chapter, we follow Iroh's advice and get the hell out of here. Or, at least, try to. Stay tuned!


	47. Chapter 47

47. I BLAST THE CHAINTS FROM MY UNCLE'S WRISTS AND ANKLES. He stands, rolls his head, pops his back. I step towards him. He's lost a lot of weight. His clothes hang off him, and he looks pale and sickly. He's desperately in need of a haircut and a bath, and I find myself wondering if he's even been let outside in months.

He still manages to pick me up and swing me around, though the act does seem to take something out of him; he's out of breath when he sets me down. He's still smiling, of course, even as he leans on me. He really does look incredibly tired; I tremble to think on what's been done to him.

"How're you feeling, uncle? Can you walk?"

He smiles. "As soon as I get a cup of tea, I'll be right as rain."

I pat his back. We're trapped like rats in a barrel, of course, and the gods only know what awaits us outside, but for a moment, I really don't fucking care. I'm so happy to have my uncle back, I could cry. I find myself desperately wishing Katara was here.

"Well," I say, "then we'll just have to put that on the agenda."

He nods. "And what _is_ next on that little agenda?"

I look around. The walls look depressingly solid, nevermind the fact that we have no idea if those walls actually touch the outside. "Getting out of this fucking bunker would probably be a good start."

He frowns. "Zuko. _Language._"

I smirk. "Sorry, uncle." I look over at Sokka and Suki. They're standing now, Suki leaning into Sokka, his arms around her, as she wipes tears from her eyes. "How're you doing?"

She shrugs. "I'm…_alright_, I guess, for lack of a better word. Once we're away from here and I have to time…_time to think_…I'll probably come to pieces, but for now, I'm okay." She sniffles, looks at my uncle. "Sorry I almost killed you, sir."

He brushes it off. "Think nothing of it. I've already forgotten what the fuss was about."

She gives a weak smile, turns to me. "Would you have really let me do it?"

I rub the back of my neck. "Probably. It's what my uncle would've wanted; he would never want me saving his life at the expense of someone else's. I mean…I wouldn't have liked it, and it would've made for an awkward moment or two, but still…yeah, probably."

Her smile grows stronger. "You really are a shit villain, you know that?"

Sokka snorts. "In his defense, he isn't even _trying_ anymore." He looks to me. "So, buddy, any bright ideas?"

I shrug. "Beats me. Isn't that your department?"

"Honestly, I never even thought we'd make it this far."

I grimace. "Yeah…that makes two of us. Suki?"

"Hmm?"

"Any idea what may be out there?"

She shakes her head. "I know there's a big chunk of the Royal Guard waiting for you, but beyond that…" She shrugs.

"Any idea how many, or what kind of hardware they've got?" Sokka asks.

She frowns. "No. They kept me pretty deep in the dark. Any time I left the bunker, I was blindfolded."

"Of course you were." I grind my teeth. "_Fucking Azula_. Sorry, uncle."

He shrugs. "In that instance, I will rule the profanity appropriate. Still, no matter the situation, there _is_ a lady present. You would do well to remember that, if you are to be the Fire Lord."

"Wait until you meet my sister," Sokka says, winking at me. "A prim and proper lady."

Suki cocks an eyebrow. "Wait, we're talking about _Katara_, right?"

"Enough, guys," I bark. I take in the room one more time, focusing on the torches in the corners. A light comes on in my mind. _Can I…? Should I even try…? _It's complete madness, the idea forming in my head, but what part of the past four years _hasn't_ been complete fucking madness? "Uncle? Do you think you can bend?"

He frowns. "I'm not sure." He follows me gaze, runs his eyes along the walls. "And right now, I'm definitely not confidant that I can give you the precision you're going to need."

I nod. "Right. Nothing's ever easy, is it?" No one answers me; even Sokka recognizes a rhetorical question when he sees one.

"What're you thinking, buddy?" he asks.

"Something really fu-I mean, freaking stupid."

"How stupid we talking?"

"There's a good chance I'll manage to kill us all in a spectacularly ill-advised piece of complex firebending."

"Right…and the upside?"

"If all goes well, we'll live long enough for the Guardsmen outside to finish us off."

Sokka rubs his chin for a moment, nods, and smiles. "Sweet. Count me in."

My uncle's grip on my shoulder tightens. "You can do it, Zuko. I know you can."

I turn to Suki. "You okay with this?"

She turns her frail smile on me. "What else have we got to lose? Gods, what else have _I_ got to lose? Let's roll."

I nod. "Right. Uncle? If you wouldn't mind…"

He releases his grip without another word, smiles, wobbles. Suki and Sokka appear to either side of him, helping him regain his balance. He smiles again, nods at me. I smile back.

"Now," I say, sheathing my sword, "I would advise you all to huddle down at the center of the room. Get as low as you can, close your eyes, and be ready, because it's going to be very hot. If this actually works, and I don't manage to turn your bodies into my left eye, you're going to have to be ready to go, and post fu-_freaking_," I glare at my uncle, who chuckles, "haste. Got it?"

The others nod, huddle down, forming a strange heap in the middle of the room. Before he lowers his head, Sokka asks, "Anything else we need to know?"

"Yeah, try not to breathe too much. What air there is will be unpleasantly warm."

He nods. "Right. And Zuko?"

"Yeah, I know, if I get myself killed, be sure to kill you, too."

"You're a pal, Zuko."

"I try."

He buries his head, and I turn my back on them. I slip off my gloves, toss them aside. I face the door. I inhale. I exhale. I close my eyes. One foot out, one foot back. Words. Words in my head. My uncle's voice, younger, stronger, so many years ago.

_To bend fire is to bend one's very essence…_

Hands at my waist, palm-to-palm. Hands slide against each other. Hands become fists. One out, the other at my waist. Inhale. Exhale.

_Any fool born with the power can throw a fireball or crack a whip…_

Sounds. Blood roaring in my ears. My friends taking deep breaths. My uncle praying. Men's voices outside. Whispers in the dark. Do they sense it? The energy pulsing, heating, crackling? Do they feel it? That little _thrum_ in the air? Would they understand even if they did?

_The fire exists within us all, but only a few can bend it, and even fewer harness it…_

I move through the gathering forms. The energy pulses through the room. The torches flash in time with the beat of my heart. It feels like there's fire in my veins.

_To wield that fire requires skill, practice, focus, discipline, control…_

The heat builds. I continue to gather energy. I move through the forms, faster and faster. I do not open my eyes. I see blackness. I clear my mind.

_But, most important, you must work for the wisdom to know when to let go, to let go of all the rage, all the fear, all the anger, all the things lesser men say are needed to bend fire, you must know when to harness those things, and then when to let them go…_

It's very hot. Sweat rolls down my spine. I feel the heat on my skin. The moment approaches. It's almost here. I can hear nothing but the blood in my ears and my uncle's voice, the litany of bending, booming in my mind.

_When to find that one piece of the puzzle, right there at your fingertips, hold the image of that piece in your mind, and allow it to channel your passion, your focus, your fire…_

The walls are covered in a thin sheet of flame. The flames pulse with the beat of my heart. I spin around the room. I gather and I spin and I spin and I gather. I see without seeing. Hear without hearing. Feel without feeling. Inhale. Exhale.

_Only when you find that piece, when that piece becomes more important than all the other petty emotions that others harness to bend, only then, will you truly become a firebender…_

_ An image…_

_ A face…_

_ There before me…_

_**Katara…**_

I open my eyes.

_**NOW!**_

I strike. I leap into the air. I spin, my fists out, spewing fire. Someone screams. Maybe it's me. The walls explode. The stones fly out into the night. Roof practical vaporizes. Heat and fire and flam rush out in a wall, a wave, a rippling sea of vicious light. The run rises, there, on a lonely peninsula, under a full moon, in the middle of the night. A tower of flame, up into the sky, swirling around me. I'm laughing. _I did it._ I feel drunk. _I really did it._ _This is what power feels like._ And then, a face, there, before me…

_She smiles…_

I land. I complete the final form, and the flames die with a _whoosh_ around me. I draw my sword, reach down into the pile, pull up Sokka. He blinks, looks around, laughs.

"Holy shit, dude! The fuck did you do?!"

I smile. I feel like I could run for miles, laughing and screaming. My heard thuds in my chest. My fingertips tingle. Electric sparks ripple up and down my skin.

"Motherfucking firebending, my man. Now, _run!_"

He draws his sword, and we run.

* * *

So, fun fact: I was really not going to give you guys anything today. Not because I didn't have anything ready, or written. Yesterday was a pretty slow sub day, and I got a lot done, despite the fact that the kids were watching _Frozen_ and that is a movie that's hard to ignore. But the thing is…_I'm feeling really fucking lazy today._ The girlfriend had to head back to her parents' for Mother's Day, and I've got Family Fun Time to look forward to myself for tomorrow, and today was such a nice day, and I really just wanted to sit here, crack open a few beers, smoke some smokes, and scroll through other people's fan fiction and fan art all goddamn day.

But you know what? I freaking love you guys. And because I love you guys, I'm going to give you something to enjoy for the evening. So, this was all a long way of saying, You guys rock, and if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be sitting here, doing some goddamn work for a change.

I'm really excited for the next few chapters, by the way. There will be some feels, and shit's going to get real, and there's an awesome fucking fight scene coming up. In fact, I would recommend going to YouTube and having "This is Not the End" playing in the background while you read.

By the way, after having spent several hours scrolling fan art, I'm going to resume my begging for fan art. Give me something good, guys! Send this story to your talented friends! Please! *looks cute*

In the next chapter, Zuko and friends get stuck between a rock and hard place, assuming that the _rock_ is the sea and the _hard place_ is a bunch of pissed off Royal Guardsmen. Stay tuned!


	48. Chapter 48

48. WE RUN. We run through a field of bodies. Most groan. Some are already beginning to rise. Some don't move at all. I lead the way to the cliff face. Sokka and Suki carry my uncle. A man rises right in front of me. I pause only long enough to run him through. He's screaming on the ground as I race away. We reach the edge. I stop, toes on the edge, wheeling my arms like a mime in a cheap farce. The others almost knock me off into the sea. We'd laugh if we had the time.

We turn back. Sokka mutters, "_Fuck me,_" and it's hard to think of a better way to say it. The peninsula is literally boiling with men. Guardsmen pour out of hidden bunkers and dugouts. The rumble tanks floats to us from far away. The men I knocked down are getting back up, leaving their fallen comrades moaning and crying in the dirt. Swords flash in the half-light. Spears are leveled. A rank of benders forms, advances, running through hurried gathering forms. Sokka and Suki set my uncle down, take position to either side of me. Our blades dance in the flickering light of torches.

I look to Suki. "You sure you're ready for this?"

She smiles, madness and rage dancing in her eyes. "I was born for this. Time for some payback."

I grin. I feel on the verge of hysterical giggles. Not even laughter, nothing that grandiose, just fucking _giggles_. "I thought Kyoshi Warriors don't believe in vengeance."

She scoffs. "Oops. Good thing I left my make-up kit at home. Knew I forgot something."

I chuckle, turn to Sokka. "I believe it's your turn for the bright ideas, my friend."

"Other than hope Aang caught what was, no doubt, what hell of a signal? Take as many of them with us as we can."

I nod. "Sounds good." I look back over my shoulder. "Sorry, uncle, but I'm going to have to give you a rain check for that tea."

He shrugs, lurches to his feet. "Maybe another time, nephew." He takes a few faltering steps. "Just get me a sword before the end. It's petty of me, but I'd rather not give my brother the satisfaction of thinking I died helpless and afraid."

"I'll do my best, uncle."

A hand claps my shoulder. "You always do, Zuko."

I smile.

_My scar doesn't ache…_

_ It should, but it doesn't…_

A man steps through the approaching horde. The others stop, step back. The man raises his hands, clears his throat.

"Prince Zuko?"

"Yeah?"

"Your father was very clear to me, before I was sent here, that you were to be spared, if at all possible. Lay down your sword and end this foolish rebellion. It's not too late."

I shake my head. _Incredible. _"And my friends?"

He shrugs. "There's nothing I can do for them, other than promise they'll be dead before your sister arrives."

I smile. Laughter continues to tickle my chest. "Then I'll see you in hell, sir."

He sighs. "Suit yourself, young man." He moves into an attack form. The other benders follow his lead. The men behind relax. It's over, as far as they can see. They're not even going to let us fight. Why bother? This isn't a play. It's a _war_, and we just lost.

Tears sting my eyes. The laughter dies.

_It's over…_

Faces, faces before my eyes. A little girl plays with the turtle-ducks. My mother sings to me. My uncle laughs. Lu Ten carries me on his shoulders. Mai trying to make idle conversation, picking at her food. Jin by the pool of lamps, saying she has something for me, too. Walls of glittering rock. Sunrise in the South. A teenage boy, laughing, flying about on a ball of air. A teenage girl, belting out dirty song, dead eyes dancing with life. My best friend, sliding across the dirt, rising with sword in hand. A beautiful woman, her fingertips on my scar.

_She smiles…_

_ She always smiles for me…_

_ She always believes in me…_

I open my eyes.

_Agni forgive…_

The man before me is frowning. The line is stepping back. The horde's eyes are on the sky. Cheerful boasting has given way to confused muttering. Fear in their movements. The man, reaching for something, a thing that glitters in his chest. _Blood._ He sinks to his knees. There's a spike in his chest.

_A spike of __**ice**__…_

Appa roars. He comes right over us. A wave of air knocks the Guardsmen back. They tumble, end-over-end. Helmets, spears, swords, fly off along the ground. Appa lands. He bellows at the racket. I turn to Sokka and Suki. "Get my uncle on Appa! _**Fast!**_"

I race around Appa, find the others. Aang, Katara, Toph. Aang picks up a spear, snaps off the point, spins it around before him. Katara stands by the sea. Toph stands between them, rubbing her hands together.

_They've left a spot for me…_

I sheathe my sword, step into the line. Aang nods at me. He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks, the very air hums with his voice.

"_Lay down your arms! Let us go! It doesn't have to be this way!"_

A pause. Then, a man rides forward, mounting on a particularly vicious-looking komodo-rhino. He levels his sword. He screams.

"_Kill them all! For Ozai!_"

A thousand throats roar back.

"_For Ozai!_"

Aang sighs. "Very well."

Toph laughs. "Let's do this shit!" A huge spike of rock erupts, hurls the screaming rider and his mount in a spinning somersault through the air.

_We move…_

_ Earth, water, air, fire…_

Four benders, moving in unison. Ice whips crack through the air. Gusts of wind throw men into the sea. Great chunks of earth life from the ground, land in the crowd. Walls of sire sweep through the ranks.

_Rock, ice, wind, flame…_

Men fall, pierced with shards of ice. Aang pulls the air from their very lungs. A boulder smashes a tank flat. Waves crash, spray falling in knives of ice. I don't know if it's ever happened before, a fight like this, all four elements, harnessed, a line of benders wielding their elements like finely turned instruments of death and destruction. It's terrifying. Fear fills my every bone even as the glorious beauty of it brings hysterical laughter roaring from my lungs.

_Earth, water, air, fire…_

_ Rock, ice, wind, flame…_

We fight, they die. Time loses all meaning. Form, move, form, move, form, move. Poetry in motion, beauty in the darkness, terror in the light. As many men run away as push forward. Terror, terror in their eyes. They aren't chanting my father's name anymore. The Royal Guard, the handpicked men, each one screened and chosen by my father, selected for maximum devotion and blind loyalty, responsible for horrors the world over, the force feared in every corner of the globe for never having run, never having faltered, never having lost a fight, and yet…

_The Royal Guard is being put to rout…_

_ My friend and I have torn my father's pride and joy to pieces…_

A voice raised above the din. Sokka, screaming into the roar. "If you assholes are done showing off, now would be a good time to get the fuck out of here!"

"My brother makes a valid argument!" Katara shouts.

"About time!" I shout back.

"Stop flirting and let's fuck off!" Toph bellows.

"And you guys say I talk too much! Now, come on!" Aang contributes.

We start moving back, slow but steady. The Guardsmen don't follow us too closely. Bodies, broken, bleeding, shredded, burned, litter the ground. Their comrades seem unnerved by the heaps and the mounds. We use the hesitation to our full advantage. Aang leaps into the pilot's seat, takes the reins. Toph pauses, turns, and in a complex series of moves, hurls a wall of rock into the air. The ground actually sinks a good inch at the action. We really book it then. Katara boosts Toph into the saddle, then clambers up after her. Katara turns, reaches down, and takes my hand. As soon as my feet leave the ground, I shout at Aang to get moving. He shouts _yip-yip_, cracks the reins, and Appa lurches into the air. Aang banks the air bison hard, swinging around to the southeast. Katara almost loses her grip on my hand. For a horrible, eternal second, I hang free in the air, my legs swinging out from under me, me feet over nothing but air and a rapidly disappearing earth. My shoulder grinds under the strain. Someone screams like a little girl, and I'm fairly certain it's me, though I can't be sure. Then Katara grabs my arm with the other hand and I'm flying through the air and I'm on top of her, face-to-face. We stare at each other. Our hearts thud in unison. Our chests heave. It feel a lot like we've just had sex. We take each other's faces in our hands and kiss, hungry, greedy, desperate. Only an awkward cough stops us. We part, look over, see an amused-looking Suki.

"So," she says, "this is new."

I get off Katara, pull her to a seated position. We're both blushing. "Not really," Katara says, brushing hair from her face. "It's been coming ever since that _I'll save you from the pirates_ line, if you think about it."

Aang laughs from up front. "I never thought about it like that! You're right, though!"

Suki frowns. "Pirates?"

My uncle laughs. "Long story, dear. Make me some tea and I'll tell it all to you." He bows to Katara. "And might I say, it's a pleasure to truly make your acquaintance, young lady."

Katara smiles, bows back. "Likewise. I've heard so much about you."

My uncle winks. "And I, you."

Katara rounds on me. "Oh?"

I'm about to answer, when I notice Sokka. His eyes are wide, fixed on something behind us. His face is pale and blank. He points. I follow his finger.

_Fuck._

Toph pricks her ears. "Hey, guys? Please tell me I'm not hearing what I think I'm hearing."

"Alright," I say, "you're not. It's all a figment of your imagination."

She closes her eyes. "_Shit._"

No one says anything else for a moment. There's not much to say. For away, beyond the peninsula we just left, is another one, this one a high mountain, jutting into the sky. From behind it, three long dark shapes slowly slip into view. Their roaring engines fill the air. Cheers come from the battered Guardsmen below.

_Airships._

* * *

Did I not promise you an epic fight scene? Because I did, and I like to think I delivered.

One of my long-running problems with the show was the number of missed opportunities. We never really got to see four benders use four different elements together, in unison, in some kind of fight sequence. I mean, think about how much ass that would kick, guys. _Really think about it._ The closest they came was when the Order of the White Lotus re-took Ba Sing Se, and even then, they never fought together. The second the fight started, they all went off in their separate ways so they could mug for the camera. The fuck, right? I felt cheated, and now I've rectified that error.

So, Aang's killing people now. You may be asking, _Why?_ Well, remember, I put him through some character development in this story. Part of that development was him realizing that only does the world not revolve around him, but it also doesn't pause while he figures out how to put his principles about its needs. He's finally accepted that he's the Avatar, and sometimes that means doing what's necessary, even if you don't like it. Being the Avatar, to me, at least, means rising about your own home nation's particular belief system, its particular wants, needs, and interests, and making the entire world your nation. And if you're an Air Nomad, that abandoning the pacifist ideology you might have been raised with and going to war.

And by the way, I never bought that the Air Nomads were truly pacifist. After all, there certainly seem to be some rather big piles of Fire Nation corpses scattered around Monk Gyatso's skeleton.

In the next chapter, the Gaang decides to face their destiny, together, and Katara and Zuko both have something to say to each other. Plus, an old friend makes a heroic sacrifice! Stay tuned!


	49. Chapter 49

49. SOKKA LEAPS UP TO AANG. "Can we outrun them?"

Aang shakes his head. "I don't know. Maybe, if we can get up to speed…"

"And assuming that they're not traveling light, just to prevent that," Katara points out.

"Which we have to assume they are," Sokka says. He turns back to the airships. "Fuck me, they're big."

Toph pulls at her hair. "_Fucking fuck-ass competent fucking villain fucks!"_

My uncle's eyes fly wide. "Young lady!"

I roll my eyes. "Not now, uncle." I reach up, touch my face. "Anybody got any bright ideas?"

"That seems to be the catchphrase of the day with you guys," Suki observes.

"It's an _everyday _catchphrase with us," Aang says, "which doesn't solve the problem."

My uncle rises, taking a hand of Suki and Toph's in each of his. They stand together, and he smiles at each of them in turn. Somehow, Toph seems to know what he's doing, because she smiles back. The only sound is the roar of the airships. My uncle turns his smile on the rest of us, looking at each of us in turn. When he speaks, his voice is soft and kind.

_Just like always…_

"Ladies, gentlemen, I think we all know what the solution is: Stand and fight. We can outrun an army, and definitely s hip, but not those three monsters over there. If we're lucky, we can win, and we can survive."

"And if we lose?" Aang asks.

"Then we face our destiny together."

Silence. The wind dies. Aang drops the reins. He turns to Sokka. "Well?"

Sokka smiles. "As good a time as any, I suppose. I mean, it's not like any of us actually thought this was going to work, right?"

My uncle nods. "Then, if there are no objections, I believe that we should all stand together, here at the end." He walks over to the lip of the saddle. Hand-in-hand, Suki and Toph go with him. They stop, stand tall, close their eyes.

My scar should ache, but it doesn't.

_As good a time as any…_

We take our positions, a ring along the back half of the saddle. We hold hands, fingers tight. We don't shake, we don't cry, we don't rage against the darkness. We did our best, and at the end of the day, how many can say the same?

_We can…_

Aang anchors the line, the Sokka, Suki, my uncle, Toph, Katara, and me. I like to think that, there at the end, we hold each other the tightest, tighter than anyone has ever held anyone before. Around us, the airships' roar grows and grows, a thousand-thousand angry bees shattering the night. Below us, the Royal Guard cheers and chants my father's name, a desperate tone in their calls as they try to blot out their disgrace. I blank them out. I hope the others do, too.

I open my eyes. "Katara?"

She opens hers. "Yes?"

I look to her. "Can I tell you something?"

She looks to me. She smiles. "Not yet, Zuko, not yet."

I chuckle. "And why not?"

"Because I refuse to believe this is the end. But, for what it's worth, I know, because I want to say the same thing."

I nod. I lean down. I kiss her, soft and light. She kisses me back, nuzzles my cheek as we part. We look back to the airships. They're growing larger with every second, looming, filling the sky. They seem impossibly huge. Impossible…

_But what does __**impossible**__ even __**mean?**_

_ It means nothing…_

_ Nothing…_

_ A thing…_

_ There…_

_ A thing…_

_ There…_

_ In the sky…_

_ Like a moth, slicing down out of the clouds…_

_ What is that?_

"Guys?" I say. They open their eyes, look to me. I point. "The fuck is that?"

Aang gasps, but it's Katara who says it.

_"Lobsang!"_

I don't know how we know, but we do. He flies a glider, like Aang's, only bigger, more complex. He dives down towards the first airship, and I swear I can almost hear his laughter, his big booming chuckle, there amidst the din. We look down over the saddle, but see nothing. No rescue, no cavalry, just one lone Air Nomad, a kind man with soft eyes and a lot of dirty jokes, puffing on his pipe.

_He's not puffing on his pipe now…_

The first airship never knows what hits it. Lobsang lets go of the glider. We watch as his falls. His body slows, and then he smashes into the side of the airship. We can hear the metal bending and grinding from here. We see a form, a tiny man in yellow, dashing up the side, his arms waving, his legs swinging, the wind turning into a gale. The airship grinds and groans, and then it's turning, turning and bending and folding in on itself. It veers off course, towards the second airship in the line.

_They touch…_

_ Metal screams…_

The form dances and swirls across the top of the first airship, leaps to the next.

_Light…_

The explosion rips across the gulf between us. The two airships twist and bend around each other, the propellers slicing into their shells. Fire mushrooms out from between them. Flames spit from the holes and tears. We can feel the heat on our faces.

"What the hell is going on?!" Toph screams.

"Lobsang," Sokka says, "Lobsang is doing something insane."

"He's saving us," Katara says. She turns to Aang. "Aang! Get us the fuck out of here!"

Aang nods. He tears himself away from the line, bounds into the pilot's seat. He screams, jerks the reins with all his strength. We're almost hurled off the side by the force of Appa moving. None of us notice, though. Our eyes are on the spectacle behind us.

The last airship isn't flying in perfect line with the others. It's slightly above. It sees the other two go down, and it starts to veer up into the sky. The figure stands alone, surrounded by flames. He turns to us. He waves.

_I swear I can see him smile…_

The figure is off. He races along the crumbling airship beneath him. Air moves, wind swirls, and then he's flying off into the night sky. Yellow and red darts across the air, and then he's rolling along the top of the final airship. He vanishes from view. We can't see anything. He's gone.

_Gone…_

I don't know how describe what happens next. I really don't. I know what I was doing. Katara had buried herself in my arms, her face deep in my chest. I'm holding her tight. Tears are burning in my eyes. Toph is collapsed on the floor. She sobs, hysterical, inconsolable. Somehow, she knows what's happening. My uncle is down beside her, his arms around her. She can't stop crying. Suki is shaking her head. She's on her knees, her hands on her mouth, tears pouring from her face. She doesn't understand. Sokka is sunk down to the floor, as if he's been knocked to the ground by a punch to the gut. He holds his stomach, and his face is pale and blank. Tears roll down his face.

And then, somehow…

_I don't know…_

It's like the final airship is folding in on itself. It's like it's being held by a massive hand, and this hand is clenching its fingers and crushing it like a sheet of paper. Metal bends and folds like tissue. The air feels thin and empty, as if the very wind is being sucked from the world and hurled at the ship.

_I swear I can hear laughter on the wind…_

When the ship goes up, the explosion is like a new sunrise. The sun hangs in the air, vanishes, and all that are left are men and scraps of metal falling into the sea.

We don't say a word. We watch the ships fall into the sea, not even the wind able to dry our tears.

* * *

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is it for Lobsang. I'm actually pretty fucking bummed right now. I really liked him. Out of all my OCs, he was my favorite. But you know what they say: Sometimes you have to kill your darlings.

For the curious, I'm totally not going to spell out what Katara and Zuko were about to say. I leave that up to you to decide, though it should be pretty obvious. I have a very special moment planned for that declaration, and I'm not going to go back on it for all the tea in China.

In the next chapter, the Gaang is really fucking depressed. Not even finding the fleet will cheer them up.


	50. Chapter 50

50. IT'S A FEW DAYS BEFORE ANY OF US SPEAKS AGAIN. Even then, we talk mostly in monosyllables and nods and grunts. Toph is completely inconsolable. I've never seen her like this, and neither have any of the others. None of us is entirely sure what to do, so we take turns holding her. We don't try to tell her it'll be okay. That would only make her angry. Instead, we let her cry. She cries and cries, cries like a baby, until she finally cries herself to sleep.

The rest of us aren't that much better. My eyes burn for days. Sokka barely even moves. Suki curls up in a corner and sniffles to herself. My uncle sits up in the pilot's seat with Aang. They don't say anything, merely watch the world go by.

Katara and I sit in the back. We barely let go of each other. We rise together, eat together, sleep together. We're quite simply too sad to do anything else.

We travel hard and fast. Before we left the rest of the army (such that it is), we packed a good week's worth of supplies, mostly bread and cheese and fruit and salt-packed meat, things that will keep and don't need to be cooked (even the meat was cooked ahead of time). Carefully rationed out, it should last us at least two weeks. We end up not needing to ration things very much. None of us has much of an appetite.

We stop for only a few hours at night, to stretch and feed Appa and let him rest for a bit. We don't take very many precautions. Every single one of us is spoiling for a fight. We look off into the horizon from our make-shift campsites and glare. We almost _beg_ for my father's legions to come find us. Airships, battleships, tanks, wave-upon-wave of Royal Guard, we want it all. A kind man named Lobsang has left a massive red mark in our ledger. Even Aang clenches his fists and grinds his jaw and hungers to collect.

One night, Katara and I have walked off for our smoke. There's no reason to wander off, not anymore. Aang has gotten so used to our relationship that he barely even notices, accepts it as a fact of life. Something's changed in him, something fundamental. When he continues to decline meat, he seems downright apologetic about it; as he puts it, he would, because it seems silly to cling to that principle at a time like this, but he just can't stomach the smell or the taste after so long without. When others light up around him, he seems almost comforted by the smell. He walks taller now, his back straighter, and his eyes burn with a determination none of us had ever guessed he had.

_We no longer wonder why he was chosen as the Avatar…_

_ I can't help but wonder if it makes the others as sad as it makes Katara and I…_

That one night, I sit against a thick tree, my back to the bark. Katara lays between my legs, her back nestled into me, her head laid on my chest. It's one of her favorite ways to sit with me. She says she can feel my heart beat, and that it always soothes her. We don't talk that night. The pain is too fresh. She sits and listens to my heart, and our cigarettes blaze in the night. It's been only three days since our escape. My uncle has taken over all cooking duties. He says it calms him. He and Suki help each other out. Sokka generally sits with Toph. She's stopped crying, but she's still not speaking.

_None of us are…_

The brush rustles behind us, in the direction of the camp. Neither of us are surprised when Aang steps out into our little spot, walks over and sits down by our feet. He faces away. His hair is getting downright shaggy. We don't say much for a long time. The night is cool and breezy. The trees bend and sway around us. The moon is growing in the sky, still a sliver of white in the darkness, but the sky is clear and the stars burn fiercely above us. Here amongst the trees, it's very quiet, very still. Katara and I finish our cigarettes. We toss them aside, and I tighter my hold on her. She shifts, turns on her side, nuzzles into me. Her breathing changes. It's soft and shallow. I lean down, kiss the top of her head softly. I smile as her hair tickles my face. I think back to that moment, before Lobsang dove out of the clouds, of what we said without saying it, and I almost smile.

_Almost…_

_ That would've been a good moment for an ending…_

_ Perfect, really…_

"Zuko?"

I look up. Aang has turned. He still doesn't face us, but instead, is kind of…_perpendicular_ to us, his legs forming a right angle with ours. His legs are pulled up, and his forearms rest lightly on his knees. He looks like he's gone very far away.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Is Katara asleep?"

I shift her lightly in my arms. All she does is purr and burrow deeper. "I believe she is."

He sighs. "You guys are…you're really good together, you know that?"

I press my lips into her hair. "I know."

"At first, it made me really angry."

"Oh?"

"Yeah…I think I knew before I…_knew_…if that make sense. I'd see you two together, how you'd hang off each other, how you were always around each other, how you seemed to have these little _things_ with each other and these little inside jokes that no one else understood and…I must've known, you know? But I didn't want to. I had this…teenage weird crush on her, and I didn't want to believe that I'd never really had a chance. You know how I felt, at first, when it finally dawned on me?"

"How?"

"I was angry. Like…_really freaking angry._ I think that's part of why I took all my frustration out on you, at Shu Jing. I was confused and lonely and angry because of all this…_this __**stuff**_…that people kept saying I had to do, and I wanted to take it out on somebody, and this…_thing_ I was beginning to suspect just made you the easiest person to take it out on."

I sigh. "You're not still torn up about that, are you? You're only human, Aang, and…well…let's face it, a kid to boot. You can't be perfect."

He scoffs. "No, I'm not. None of us are. I…I get that, now. I don't know what that means, but I get it. But you know what? You two, together, you're perfect. You're these…two imperfect people who, combined, make a perfect one. Does that make any sense?"

I nod. "It does. More than you could possibly know what now."

He turns his face to me, a soft smile on his face. "How do you mean?"

I wink. "You'll understand someday."

He chuckles. "Not anytime soon. Toph likes girls and Suki's _way_ too old and she's got enough stuff on her plate anyways and, well…" He looks back to the trees before him. "Even if I still wanted Katara to like me, I wouldn't interfere. The last thing you need is some teenage brat on a power-trip trying to ruin the one thing you've really got going for you right now."

I shake my head. "Aang? You're not a brat. Well…not anymore."

He hangs his head. "I wish I could believe that. I think back to the way I acted sometimes, and…gods, I want to throw up. Like. It actually _turns my stomach._ I mean, you should've seen the way I reacted when I first caught Sokka and Katara smoking, stomping my feet and throwing a fit and thinking that I was their boss or something. And you won't _believe_ why we hung around on Kyoshi Island for three weeks."

"You wanted to ride some sea-serpent thing?"

"Heh…man, Katara really does tell you everything."

"And Sokka thought it was a funny story, too."

_Pause._ "Do you tell Katara everything?"

I nod. "I do. I tell her things I don't even tell myself."

He sighs. "Good, I like that. When I get old enough, I'm going to aim to be like you guys."

"Thank you, Aang. That means a lot to me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

The wind blows, the trees dance in the breeze.

"Aang?"

"Yeah?"

"What're we really talking about?"

He frowns. His lip trembles. His eyes gleam in the starlight.

"I'm mad at Lobsang."

"Okay. Why?"

He rounds on me. "Don't you think that's ridiculous?"

I shake my head. "Nothing's ridiculous, Aang, when it comes to things like that. You know how I felt, for a good year after my father burned me?"

"How?"

"I was angry at myself. I blamed myself for bringing my fate down upon me. I was furious and angry, because my father was basically a god to me and if he burned me, then it was my own damn fault, and therefore I deserved every moment of pain and aching."

He looks back to the trees. "Really?"

I nod. "Really. Fucking stupid, I know that now, but I was only eighteen, and besides, there's no _normal_ way to respond to something like that. So, tell me, why are you mad at Lobsang?"

He reaches up, wipes his eyes. "Because I should've been in his place. I should've leapt off Appa and taken those airships down. I'm easily as much of an airbender as he was. What was I doing, standing there? I should've gone and done my duty as a friend. I should've saved my friends and sacrificed myself. But I hesitated. I was too scared. _But he wasn't._ He did what I couldn't do, and a part of me that's larger than I care to admit hates him for it. _For showing me how small I am." _He sniffs, lays his forehead against his arms. "_And if I'd just done my duty a century ago, none of this would ever have happened…_"

I don't know what to say. I really don't. Here is this fifteen-year-old kid, crying out in pain, trying to express emotions that are impossible to fathom or comprehend, reaching out to _me_, of all people, to help him. With a shock, I realize…_he looks up to me._ No one's ever really looked up to me before. Confusion seizes my throat like fingers of ice.

_Of course, I never had actual friends before, either…_

"Aang?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't have any answers for you. There are no answers for things like this. I…I wish I did, but I don't. But…don't beat yourself up over this. You're a good kid, and someday, you're going to be a good man, and you won't get there until you stop selling yourself short."

He looks to me, tears glittering in the corners of his eyes. "That sounds like something Katara would say."

I chuckle. "Oddly enough, it's not. It's just…how she makes me feel. And I like to imagine that it's how I make her feel, too."

He smiles. "She definitely doesn't mother us as much anymore. She used to cluck over us like a hen. But since you became a part of our lives, and a part of hers? It's like she decided, _Nah, I've got better things to do. This guy over her things I'm hot shit, and maybe I am, and that means you can clean your own damn clothes._"

I wink. "We're getting away from the actual issue, Aang."

He sighs. "I know. But like you said, there aren't any answers. I mean, how to explain that I feel sad and mad, all at the same time?"

I shrug. "Life?"

He nods. "Life."

_Life._

* * *

So, the other day, my girlfriend accused me of doing _filler episodes_. She's big into anime, and one of the things she hates are filler episodes. Now, she said this by way of saying that, if all filler episodes were like mine, she wouldn't hate them so much, but I think she made a good point. One of the things that it took me literally _fucking years_ to learn was what to leave in and what to leave out. I've been writing more or less constantly since I was in high school, and it's only in the past year or so that I've learned how to get to the fucking point. There's often all this stuff I want to detour into and go for a swim in, but in the interests of plot and pacing, I cut out. But here, in Fan Fiction land? Fuck that. I'm having fun, and that means that I'm going to find time for Aang and Zuko to have a heart-to-heart that doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the overall plot.

Though, on the other hand, it does. I'm showing, very clearly, how much Aang has grown up over the course of this story. I do think this important to show, because Aang is the Avatar, and you know what? That's pretty fucking important.

So, tonight, in the absence of the girlfriend, I'm doing something I haven't done since college: Drinking and writing. I think I'm going to write until I'm out of beer or doze off. Personally, I blame Sam Adams for figuring out how to put their Boston Lager in a can, because drinking out of cans is fucking _awesome_.

In the next chapter, the Gaang hook back up with the fleet, and discover that their little escapade has made waves that they couldn't even imagine. Stay tuned! For the record, by the way, we're about two-thirds or so of the way to the end. I hope you're as excited as I am!

Other things to look forward to: We're actually very close to meeting Hama.


	51. Chapter 51

51. WE CATCH UP WITH THE FLEET A FEW MILES SHORT OF KAGOSHIMA. Kagoshima is a moderately-sized port city, the most western port in the southern half of my Homeland. A few miles away is an isolated cove, kind of the middle of nowhere and perfect for the opium trade. That's how my crew knew it, and Fujita had led the fleet (such as it was) there to wait for me. It took us about a week-and-a-half to get there. By the time we arrived, we were dirty, tired, and, to be brutally honest, still depressed. Toph had stopped crying, but she still wasn't speaking. Suki was largely silent; the fact that she might have condemned her sisters to death was beginning to stray into her consciousness. She cried a lot; Sokka was the only one who could calm her down. I tried my best to avoid her; the sight of me seemed to remind her of my sister, and would set her off all over again.

I won't even get into how that made me feel. It's easier to say that my scar ached a lot.

They were all waiting for us, there on another beach. Even Kuupik was still waiting around, though, to my shock, Northern Water Tribesmen had somehow, over the course of the past couple of weeks, become outnumbered. As we banked over the cove, it was easy to see that there were now a good dozen ships instead of three, and several _thousand_ men camped along the shore. And they were all armed, armed and drilled and ready to march. It was astonishing. Barely two weeks before, I had left a couple hundred men and boys sailing off into the unknown. Now, I landed, my heart heavy and my mind clouded, to find an army well on the way to being a force to be reckoned with, gathering on the shoreline, chanting my name as we landed.

And yet, even as we hopped off Appa's back, my eyes kept looking for Lobsang, sitting on a stool and smoking a pipe. We knew he wasn't there, would never be there, but we wanted him to be.

My men and my boys were the first to greet us, of course. They saw Appa circling for a landing and started the cheer. They rushed out towards us, dancing and singing and chanting my name. My boys were the worst. They were actually weeping, and when Katara and I dragged my uncle up before them, they practically fainted. They picked my uncle up and hoisted him on their shoulders and carried him around the camp, chanting his name and mine. It was while he was in their hands and I was conferring with Fujita and Piandao and Kuupik that my uncle first heard my men refer to Katara as _Fire Lady_; I doubt he'll ever let me live that down. He found it hysterical; indeed, it was him, using this as leverage, that brought Toph back to the land of the living. After a day or two at the cove, she was actually smiling again. She started eating, and she even started laughing from time-to-time, all because my uncle found it amusing that my men would've happily crowned my girlfriend as my queen there and then.

He asked me why I hadn't. I told him the truth.

_Katara hasn't asked me yet._

He accepted this without argument, though not without teasing.

Fujita was almost beside himself with worry when he greeted us on the beach. He ran to us, babbling about this and that. The first coherent words out of his mouth were, "Where the fuck did Lobsang go?" The looks on our faces were all he needed by way of answer. His face fell, and he wiped his eyes. "Oh," he said. He told us the whole story, about Lobsang had seemed happy and go-lucky, how he'd seemed even happier than usual, until, suddenly, he'd unwrapped this strange staff, smiled at the crew, and then he'd tapped the staff on the deck and he was gone. They hadn't a clue what was going on, until we climbed off Appa with long faces and heavy hearts. Many toasts were raised to him that night.

Piandao took me around the camp. He insisted that Katara come, too. We walked through the tents, arm-in-arm and hand-in-hand. Men were streaming in by the dozens, every hour of every day. Deserters and mutineers, hardened veterans and fresh-faced boys. Piandao was doing his best to mold an actual army, but when he saw my uncle step off Appa, he did nothing to conceal his relief.

That first night, we had dinner together, the leaders, Piandao, Fujita, my uncle, me, and Katara. Aang and Kuupik both felt that this concerned internal Fire Nation matters, and that they should stand aside, and neither Suki nor Toph felt that they were up to a war council, so Sokka stayed with them.

Katara just came. I never thought to question her right, and when she settled down next to me, her hand tightly entwined with mine, no one so much as blinked an eye.

"So," I said, "what's been going on?"

Piandao bowed his head. "Oddly enough, the worst decision your father ever made was to let your sister hurl the Royal Guard into this bizarre, insane trap."

Fujita nods. "The word is all over the country by now. The exiled prince and his three bending friends, including the Avatar, gutted the Guard and put them to rout, and swiped the great General Iroh out from under their noses, while Ozai cowered in fear in Miyako."

"That may not be the reality," Piandao adds, "but it's hard for those involved to say otherwise. The government, of course, says that it was merely a temporary set-back, but it's hard for them to put a pleasant face on the massive recruitment drive for the Royal Guard that's currently in effect."

Katara blinks. "Recruitment drive? How many did we kill?"

Fujita bows his head. "Rumor says over a thousand. It could be more, it could be less, but all we know is that, as word filtered down to the south over the past week, suddenly we weren't getting the random deserter, but entire companies at a time."

I turn to Piandao. "How many men do we currently have?"

Piandao smiles. "Over four thousand, including over five-hundred firebenders. More than enough to march on Kagoshima and win our first true victory."

My uncle nods. "Winning Kagoshima would be a major sign in proving that this is not just a pointless crusade, but rather, a legitimate challenge to your father's throne."

Fujita bows his head. "That's why we've been waiting for you. The Lord of Kagoshima has already made clear to us that neither he nor the local garrison will offer any resistance. Even the local naval squadron is locally recruited; if the city goes over to you, we'll triple our fleet size." He smiles. "Then you'll have to find a new admiral."

Katara grins. "I think that we have already found our admiral. No other man will fill us with the confidence and security that you do, Admiral Fujita."

I swear to all the gods, Fujita blushed bright red. He ran a hand through his thinning hair and smiled like silly schoolboy. "Is that true, that I've been promoted, your majesty?"

I smile. "If the Lady Katara says it, it must be true. She speaks with my voice in all things."

Piandao grins. "The men already believe that, your Grace. They chant her name with the same fervor as they do yours and the Avatar's."

Fujita perks up. "That is something we have to address, though. The entire south is ready to rise in your name, but what role is the Avatar to have in this? After over a year of fighting the Fire Nation, and the slaughter at the North, I'm not sure having the Avatar by our side will help us gain followers."

I raise a hand. "I understand. That is something that the Lady Katara and I will have discuss with the Avatar himself. Until then, we can only worry about ourselves. Mainly…gentlemen?"

They all bow. "Yes, your Grace?"

"Is this an actual fight? Do we stand an actual chance? Can we gain the forces to challenge my father for his throne?"

Piandao sighs. "Tomorrow? No. But we don't have to win by tomorrow. We have until the spring."

Katara makes a face. "The comet."

Fujita bows his head. "Indeed, my lady. Sozin's Comet is expected to be at full force on our true Fire Lord's twenty-third birthday. Thus, we have about…five-to-six months, to field an army that can take the capitol, if Fire Lord Zuko is correct in assuming that our current Fire Lord is planning something horrific that day."

I sigh. "When I was growing up, he used to almost salivate at the thought of the comet. He used to say, 'Just wait until your twenty-third birthday, Zuko; then I'll show you what real power looks like.'" I shake my head. "I used to dream of giving him the Avatar on a silver platter on that day."

My hands is squeezed. I squeeze back. Katara smiles. "I have a feeling it's been a long time since you thought like that."

I lean over, kiss her forehead. "A very long time." I turn to my lords and generals, and see the smug look on my uncle's face. "What?"

Without a word, my uncle turns to Fujita and holds out a hand. Fujita grumbles, moans, groans, and then drops a bag of coins into my uncle's hand. My uncle tosses it in the air, catches it, considers it, then stashes it in his pocket. Finally, I can't take it. "Seriously, uncle, _what_?"

Fujita sighs. "About a year or so ago, your uncle was talking to me, about how you needed a nice girl."

My uncle laughs, sipping the cup of tea that I'd finally been able to obtain for him. "I kept saying that, if you could just meet a nice girl, you'd forget all about this Avatar business and drop the hunt."

"Well," Fujita continues, "he pointed out that, as time went on, even after we knew we were hunting the Avatar, you seemed more concerned with who we eventually learned was the Lady Katara than with the Avatar."

"And I," my uncle says, "pointed out that, if there was any _nice girl_ that my nephew was interested in, it would be a certain waterbender."

"And I," Fujita retorts, "pointed out that that was ridiculous, and then I bet a fairly large sum of money on the matter."

Katara grins. "Well, you could still get your money back. Nothing says I'm a _nice girl._"

Fujita snorts. "And that just proves why I lost my money, my lady."

Katara rolls her eyes. "I'm not the Fire Lady yet."

My uncle winks. "_Yet._"

I sigh. "_Anyways…_"

That night, we gather the entire army together. Well over four-thousand men stand in serried ranks, there on the beach in the flickering light of torches. In the morning, we will march on Kagoshima, to the sound of horns and the beating of drums and beneath flapping banners. My boys have even taken the time to make a banner to specific to me, a Fire Nation emblem in a sea of blue. They won't tell me what it means, only giggle and snicker to each other as Katara and I pass.

I tell them the truth. I tell them that we march into civil war, that we will have to fight and kill our countrymen, that we have only two choices, victory or death. They wait for me to finish, then chant my name. They chant my name, and more than that.

_Zu-ko!_

_ Katar-a!_

_**Zu-ko!**_

_** Katar-a!**_

It seems that the madness of my original boys has spread to my new boys. My heart breaks for every single one.

At the end of my speech, I have bottle of fire whiskey distributed to every man present. What with raids and foraging, we have just enough for everyone to have a shot. I raise my glass. Four thousand glasses shimmer in the air.

"To Lobsang," I cry, "a man who only did what was right, no matter the cost."

Four-thousand heads bow, four-thousand throats mutter, "_For Lobsang_," four-thousand glasses sparkle in the moonlight as they are drained of their contents.

That was the last night Toph cried. She sobbed like a baby, just like the first night. Come morning, she was dragging Aang out of bed for his earthbending practice and laughing while she did it. But I didn't care. Well, I cared about Toph, but I didn't care what she did to Aang. I'd just led thousands of Fire Nation citizens in a toast to an airbender, all while the waterbender that all assumed would be their future queen had her arm threaded through mine.

The future had come. And on the morrow, we would march into Kagoshima and find out just how far the future would really go.

It was, as I'd said to Aang, not to long before:

_Life._

* * *

Not entirely sure how I feel about this one, but sometimes we have to go through one chapter to get to five kickass chapters. So, bear with me through this filler bullshit, and we'll get rolling.

Also, yeah, Katara's going to be the Fire Lady someday. My girlfriend says that I should stop playing coy with that, because she's made it clear that, if I try to cop out of that, she's going to kick me to the couch for a week, and she'd do it, so there. But they haven't said they love each other yet. That's going to be an important moment.

In the next chapter, Zuko and company march into Kagoshima and make their rebellion a reality, and discover a chance to convince the world that they mean business. Stay tuned!


	52. Chapter 52

52. WE MARCH FOR KAGOSHIMA AT SUNRISE, WITH ALL THE DASH AND SHOW OF A COUNTRY FAIR. We take the coastal road, winding and weaving through low hills and scattered forests. The countryside is just as ravaged as the rest of the south, but even so, there's still an awe-inspiring amount of beauty to be found. Autumn is in full force. The air is light and cool, and a scarlet-red column snakes through hills and valleys the color of burnished gold. The sun catches four-thousand spear points, and the column sparkles from end-to-end. We march at an easy pace, the beat laid down by an actual regimental band that Fujita has scrapped together for just this purpose. The men sing obscene marching songs, spurred on by a cackling Toph. The ranks are clean and orderly, the men well-disciplined and optimistic. Every once in a while, I ride along the column, and they cheer me as I pass. I trade jokes with them, and they make all sorts of lewd threats involving spears and my father's various bodily orifices. Some of the best moments, though, are when Katara appears beside me, just as some soldier is making a particularly crude comment; the way they sputter and cough is almost magical to behold.

The entire march itself has a magical quality. The closer we get to Kagoshima, the more people we see. Villages meld together and become towns, and towns meld together to become the outskirts of the city. Everywhere we go, people cheer and shout and chant my name. Children run and laugh and smile along the edge of the road. Young girls swoop down into the line to place garlands of flowers on heads and necks, and hastily made banners are unfurled from windows and hoisted above the crowds. They all say the same thing:

_Zuko and Peace!_

Our numbers even begin to grow as we march. Every time we stop, young men come out of the places that their families had hid them and ask to join us, while discharged veterans, sometimes missing fingers and eyes and ears and noses, come out wearing old armor and carrying old weapons and fall into line. Old bent men missing arms and legs bow to us as we pass, and one old woman bursts into tears when she asks me if I really mean it, if I really will end the way, and I smile and say, "_I'll do my best, my lady._"

The effect is intoxicating. We're greeted like conquering heroes out of the legends of old. In a part of my Homeland where people have learned to hide from men with swords and spears, to shut their doors and pretend that their sons have run away, now, here, in the shining light of a cloudless autumn day, they hoist their children on their shoulders to watch me pass, chant my name and hold out banners and makeshift flags. That's something that does surprise me, the speed with which my banner has spread. The closer we get to Kagoshima, the more Fire Emblems on blue fields I see being waved from the crowds. It's obvious that most are just old flags hastily painted blue, but the effect is still thrilling, almost surreal, really.

My friends and I ride at the front of the column, where we can take in the full force of the spectacle. I ride at the very front, flanked by Aang and Katara, Aang to my left and Katara to my right. Aang is enjoying the scene far too much; he waves and laughs and shows off how well he rides a komodo-rhino like a dandy at a country fair. Behind us are the others, Piandao and my uncle and Sokka and Suki. We had Toph with us for a while, but when the soldiers started singing she bounded off and ran back to them, where she spends much of the rest of the march riding on various soldiers' shoulders, singing along at the top of her lungs. That's one of the best parts of the march, really, the fact that she's finally smiling again.

I look off to my right, to the sea, and see the fleet coasting gently through the water. Fishing boats stand at anchor as my ships pass, the fishermen smiling and waving and cheering. Even Kuupik's ships are greeted warmly, and I can almost see Kuupik and Fujita on the prows of their flagships, laughing and waving back to the crowds.

But more than all of this, more than Toph laughing or old women blowing kisses at my uncle or how even Suki seems to be smiling, more than the way we're cheered and greeted and more than the garlands of flowers dangling from my boys' spears, the petals dancing in time with the beat of the drums, more than any of this, more than the majesty and the pomp and the circumstance and the feeling, for the first time in far too long, that we can actually do this, _that we just might win…_

More than any of that, the sight I enjoy the most is Katara.

To say she looks splendid would be an understatement. The Governor of Kagoshima Province, a Lord Okayama, when he found out about Katara, had had his tailors whip up a splendid set of Fire Nation formal wear. She wears one of those dresses now, and I can't stop looking at it. It fits her perfectly, the fabric a complex pattern of deep, shimmering red shot through with veins of dark blue. She's done her hair up in a fascinating mix of Fire Nation and Water Tribe styles, and interacts with the crowd like a true queen. Every inch of her is beautiful, marvelous, _regal_. The civilians talking to my troops start asking questions, and soon her name and her exploits are rippling through the crowds. By the time we reach the city gates, the words _Fire Lady_ are being chanted just as much as my name.

We're approaching the gates when I nudge my mount over towards hers. She's laughing at something she's seen in the front, laughing and smiling and waving, when I lean over and ask, "So, having fun?"

She turns to me, smiles in a way that catches the light and stops my heart. "I am, I really am. We needed this."

I nod. I smile, reach out, take her hand. The crowd almost swoons. "I think they like you."

She giggles. "They do, but only because they like you."

I chuckle. "They do seem to have an appreciation for me. I wonder why?"

She rolls her eyes. "Because you're brave and compassionate and young and vibrant and you promise them the one thing they actually want." She leans over, whispers into my ear, "Plus, you're _super_ sexy. Who wouldn't like that?"

I laugh, kiss her forehead. "I doubt they think that."

She laughs. "Oh, really? You apparently haven't noticed all the girls making kissing faces at you as we march along."

I shrug. "Only because they can't see the scar what with this damn helmet."

She arches an eyebrow. "Oh, Zuko, don't you understand? The scar only makes you _more_ alluring."

I snort. "I doubt that."

She puts on a pout. "What, you doubt _me?_"

I lean over, kiss her forehead again. "Now, that's not fair, and you know it."

Her faces fills with innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about, dear."

I roll my eyes. "You're crazy. I like you."

She lifts up my hand, kisses it. "And I like you, but if I catch you making eyes back at any of those girls, your ass is mine. Remember: I know where you sleep."

I squeeze her hand, tilt my head back at Aang. "I think between the Avatar and my boys, they'll all be too tired to be thinking much about me."

She scoffs. "You know nothing, Fire Lord Zuko."

I shrug. "Compared to you? Not a damn thing."

"Heh…flattery will get you everywhere."

"I like the sound of that…"

Lord Okayama greets us at the main city gates. The local garrison lines the road leading to him, and they bow as I pass. Cheers boom from the port as my fleet arrives at the docks, and it seems that the entire city of upwards of eighty-thousand-people is assembled around us, cheering and shouting. Lord Okayama himself is surrounded by a delegation, finely dressed leading men of the city and officers in parade armor. They bow deeply as I dismount and make my way towards them. When I reach them, I bow back, Katara, her arm threaded through mine, bowing with me. I remove my helm and take a deep breath, wiping my brow.

"Ah," I say, "that's better." I start to move the helmet to the crook of my arm, but one of my boys appears out of nowhere, and takes it from me. I bow my head and thank him, and his grin almost breaks his face in two. I turn back to Lord Okayama. "My lord."

He bows again. "Your Grace." He's a round, portly man, about in his early fifties, with greying hair and a thick, well-maintained beard. He has a ruddy complexion and a face that seems predisposed to smiles; he reminds me strongly of my uncle before his imprisonment. I take an instant liking to him. "It is a pleasure to welcome you today."

"And it's a pleasure to be here."

He smiles, spreads his hands. "Before we continue, there is some official business to get out of the way." He turns to the assembled delegation, waves two men over. One is a stout man in his forties, with thick black hair and a neatly trimmed goatee, dressed in a major's regalia. He bows to me.

"Your majesty, I am Minami Shimoda, the mayor of the city. It is my pleasure to officially inform you that the city, and that is in it, is yours."

I bow back. "Your people honor me with their loyalty."

He bows, steps back, and is replaced by a tall, broad-shouldered soldier in finely polished parade armor that glitters in the sun. He removes his helm, revealing weather-hardened features and calm, cool golden eyes. "Your majesty, I am General Hattori, commander of the Kagoshima Military District. I am pleased to inform you that every man and piece of hardware under my command is now yours."

I bow back. "And how do your men feel about this?"

He smiles, though the act doesn't particularly suit him; he's obviously too much a soldier for easy smiles. "They were the ones who made the decision, your Grace, though it was one I dearly wished for. Before you arrived, about a week ago, I received orders to send my son's unit to the front in the Earth Kingdom. Needless to say, that made my decision much easier."

I nod. "You know I can't answer for your son's safety under my banner."

He bows his head. "Of course not, your Grace, but I'd rather he died saving his country than helping destroy it. We all feel the same way."

Katara smiles. "And how many men do you have under your command, my lord?"

His face brightens. "And you must be the famous Lady Katara."

Her face reddens. "You've heard of me?"

The assembled delegation chuckles. Hattori bows. "We've all heard of you, my lady; Fire Lord Zuko's representatives have made sure of _that_. And in answer to your question, I have sixteen-thousand men under my command, including about three-thousand firebenders, several units of tanks and artillery, two airships, and about fifteen ships."

I whistle through my teeth. "That is…well…that is certainly impressive, General."

Hattori winks. "Let's just say that I've been gathering men for some time. At least half should've been sent to the Earth Kingdom by now, but I have my ways of delaying."

A wolfish grin creases my face. "I think, General Hattori, that you are going to be a welcome addition to our cause."

His face grows solemn and grave. "That would be a great honor, your majesty."

"The honor," Katara says, smiling at me from the corner of her eyes, "is all ours."

It takes most of the rest of the day to fully enter the city and make our way to the Governor's Palace. Every step of the way, we are cheered. Flowers are strewn at our feet, and saloon keepers rush out into the column and press drinks into the hands of my men. By the time we reach the palace, many are swooning on their feet. Piandao isn't terribly pleased with the sight, but my uncle manages to talk him out of inflicting punishment drills on the men. To be honest, by the time we reach the palace, I feel downright drunk, though I haven't touched a drop of liquor. It has just been that kind of a day. All I want to do is go to bed, throw off my armor and crawl into Katara's arms and celebrate the mere fact of our continued existence. My desire to do this is only increased when Lord Okayama reveals that he already took the liberty of having a room prepared for the both of us; I round on Piandao at this, who merely shrugs and maintains that it was all Fujita's doing.

Alas, sleep is not to be yet. The lords and ladies of the city assemble in the main dining hall, a massive room where a huge table is packed almost to over-flowing with a truly fine banquet. Lord Okayama apologizes profusely for the fare, which is, to be honest, simple and plain, hardly what one could expect at such an occasion, but the war has begun to pinch the high as much as the low, and he has done the best he could do. It takes all of us to reassure him that we do not mind, though I don't think he believes it until he sees Sokka dive in.

At the banquet, red fire wine flows and all eat to their heart's content. Katara and I head the table, opposite Lord Okayama and his wife. To either side of her and I are our friends, who are cheered and applauded as the guests of honor. Toph actually _blushes_ under the attention, and shows once again that her table manners and etiquette, when she chooses to use them, cannot be faulted. Even Sokka does his best not to eat like a monster, though mostly I suspect that he's showing off for Suki.

At the end of the banquet, I offer a final toast, to Lobsang. All rise, silent and solemn, and drink to his spirit and his sacrifice. There are tears in all of our eyes as we raise our glasses to the sky.

After dinner, there is dancing and music, and Katara and I dance long into the night. When we finally get to bed, we're almost too exhausted to do anything but sleep.

_Almost…_

* * *

Hey guys! What's up?! I just really wanted to give you something today, so I whipped this up. Not much to say, other than that it was about time I gave the Gaang an actual army. Plus, I found a way to sneak in a GoT reference, and that always makes for a good day.

In the next chapter, the Gaang gets a briefing, and sets out on a humanitarian mission. Also, all realize that they face an important decision. Stay tuned!


	53. Chapter 53

53. THE NEXT MORNING, KATARA AND I COME BACK FROM A BRIEFING TO FIND MOST OF OUR FRIENDS JUST STARTING TO MOVE ABOUT. Toph, Suki, and Aang are just sitting down to breakfast, while Sokka continues to saw wood somewhere not far away. The group had been given a suite of rooms not from where Katara and I sleep, and thus shared a kind of common room where they munched on some plain breakfast fare. Katara and I had already eaten at the briefing, but we still settled down with them, hanging our heavy outer robes on hooks by the door. We knelt at the low table, and I lit cigarettes while Katara bent some water into two glasses, mostly, I suspect, but it's kind of cool and fun. The others were still half awake, so we enjoyed a few moments of quiet, puffing and sipping water. It felt nice, it really did, to just sit in the early morning silence, the open windows letting in a calm, cool breeze, while we enjoyed the company of friends.

I find my mind wandering, back to how my life used to be. Having _friends,_ at least how normal people understand the term, was never exactly _encouraged_ in the world I grew up in. The closest I ever came were some of my fellow students during my year at Piandao's school, and even then, I could never be comfortable in knowing whether they wanted to be friends with _me_ or just acquaintances with the Crown Prince. Girls were like that, too; there was a time when nobles practically _threw_ their daughters at me. It was heady stuff at first, until I realized that not a single one either knew a real thing about me, or cared to. My life was, in short, lonely and cold, especially after my mother vanished from my life and my father took the throne. I existed in a strange, surreal world of long corridors and empty rooms, of swirling intrigues and nobles who fell from grace almost as quickly as they rose to it. My uncle was the only genuinely kind face I saw on a regular basis, and even then, my father often went out of his way to limit my exposure to him, at least until my banishment, when my father ceased pretending to care.

And now? Well…now, things were different. All I had to do to see that was take the hand of the woman next to me, take her hand and smile. She smiles back, as she always does, leans over and kisses me softly on the cheek. I know that should probably stop making me feel giddy and gooey at some point, but I'm not in a hurry for that change to happen.

"Good morning, early birds." We all turn to see Sokka stagger into the room, yawning and stretching and scratching. His hair is a mess and he's still wiping drool from his face, but he wastes no time after kneeling down to the table in digging into the food with his usual aplomb.

Suki shakes her head, a bemused grin on her face. "I see that Sokka has yet to learn anything approaching manners."

Toph scoffs. "You don't know the half of it, sister."

"Believe it or not," Katara says, stubbing out her cigarette and grabbing an apple to nibble on, "he's actually much better than he used to be."

Aang takes in the sight of Sokka smacking loudly on a bite that's much too big and arches an eyebrow. "Than _this_?"

Katara nods. "Oh, yes. At least now, most of what he eats ends up in his mouth, unlike when he was just a kid."

"Sokka? A kid?" I laugh. "I find that hard to imagine."

"Should be easy," Toph points out. "Just take off a few feet and give him a squeaky voice, and you won't even notice the difference."

In response to that, Sokka mumbles something through a mouth of food that sounds vaguely derogatory. Toph, naturally, is unfazed, and merely giggles as she sticks her tongue out at Sokka. Aang rolls his eyes before turning to Katara and I. "So," he asks, "how was the briefing?"

"Very educational," I say, "if a bit arduous."

"Lord Okayama can be a bit wordy when he gets going," Katara explains. "Put him in the same room as Iroh, and soon you're looking for the door."

"Or at least a smoke break between here and the end of the latest round of competitive punning," I add.

Aang nods. "I can see how that might get old."

"I dunno," Toph says. "I'm pretty sure I could listen to Iroh pun all day."

Katara laughs. "Yeah, you probably could."

"You'd be amazed at what I can do all day," Toph says, winking at Suki, who blinks and mutters, "What now?"

"_Moving on_," Sokka says, during a rare food-free moment, "what did you guys manage to learn?"

"A lot, actually," I say, readjusting myself from kneeling to sitting, allowing Katara to settle herself against my shoulder. "For example, we learned that our biggest and best ally is, apparently, my father."

"Your sister is a big help, too," Katara points out.

"How do you guys mean?" Suki asks.

"My father has apparently decided to react to my little rebellion by throwing what amounts to a temper tantrum."

"He's even put Azula in charge of the resulting crackdown, as if to make absolutely sure that he makes Zuko's case for him as strongly and efficiently as possible," Katara adds.

I nod. "Exactly. And meanwhile, while my sister tosses anyone who even admits to knowing I exist in a dungeon, my father keeps blindly placing new demands on the people, with everything from the draft to war production being ramped up. So, he's demanding more sacrifice while making himself look as unworthy of sacrifice as possible, even ordering units off to the front half-trained."

"There have been mutinies," Katara continues, "riots, mass desertions…you name it. And now that Zuko has declared himself openly, there's something for all of this dissatisfaction to rally around, and rally it seems to be doing. It's only a matter of time until we're a force to be reckoned with."

Sokka strokes his chin, as is his wont when he wishes to appear contemplative. "You really dig this briefing and war council and _running a nation_ business, don't you, sis?"

Katara smiles, brushes some hair from her face. "It's daunting, mentally exhausting, and the sheer scale of the responsibility is often terrifying, but, that said…well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it."

I kiss her forehead. "And, let's be real, you're a natural."

Toph laughs. "Well, after bossing us around for so long, it only makes sense that she's seek to be bossy on a national scale."

"Jealous?" Katara asks, making a silly face.

"Terribly," Toph replies, making a silly face right back. How the girl seems to be aware of such things never ceases to astound me.

"So," Aang says, picking up an orange, "what's next for you guys?"

I nod at Katara, who reaches back and pulls out a rolled up map that we'd brought in with us. The others clear the table while her and I roll the map out and weigh the corners down with a few small plates. Unfurled before us is a detailed drawing of the southern half of my homeland. The others lean over it, studying it intently. "So, where are we again?" Sokka asks.

I tap a finger on the southwestern corner. "Here, and Kagoshima Province is all of this." I trace a large area around it, comprising most of that southwestern corner. "The first step is to build a secure bass and consolidate it. Most of the surrounding provinces are either in favor of me or at least sympathetic. Seeing me at the head of an army should tip the scales."

"We want to see how much of the south we can secure without much fighting," Katara continues, picking up where I left off. "If at all possible, we want to contain the serious fighting to beyond the Jang Hui. The south has suffered enough as is."

"Even a month's delay on my father's part will help us," I finish. "By then, we'll be strong enough to meet or subvert any army he throws at us."

Sokka nods, continuing the stroke his chin. "After the mauling you guys gave the Royal Guard, I imagine that Ozai will have difficulty putting together enough troops he can trust."

"And who can he trust, really?" Aang asks. "I mean, think about the choice he's offering: Defeat my son, then go off to fight in a war you're all beginning to think is pointless, or lost to my son, and let him end that war. How can he get _anyone_ to fight for him like that?"

Suki looks away. "Fear," she says softly. She sniffs, wipes her eyes, and allows Sokka to put a comforting arm around her. "Don't underestimate the power of fear." She looks up, takes a deep breath, and puts on a brave smile. "In fact, that kind of leads me into something we need to talk about, guys."

We let silence envelop us for a bit after that. The truth is, we all knew that this was coming, for a variety of reasons. At the end of the day, the world was simply too big and too complex to fight the war in only one place, and there was far too much at stake to toss all of our eggs into one basket. Even without all of that, when Suki dropped the sword from my uncle's throat, we all incurred a debt to her that could never really be repaid. To ignore that debt would be to imperil our very souls.

_And besides, ignoring the needs of others is just now what we __**do**__…_

"You need to get back to Kyoshi," Katara says, smiling.

Suki nods. "I do, I really do. It's all I can think about." She turns to me. "Do you think Fujita can spare a ship to take me?"

"He'd spare the whole fleet if I asked, especially for you, Suki. Of _course_ you can have a ship."

Aang looks up from the remains of his orange. "But, Suki, you don't _need_ a ship." At that Katara's grip on my knee tightens. We both know what's coming; we've talking about it at length, come close to arguing a few times. Despite my best efforts, though, she's made clear that she chose her path back in Shu Jing, and that there's nothing I can do to change her mind.

_Which doesn't make me feel any better, no matter how much I know she's a grown woman who can make her own decisions…_

Suki blinks in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Aang clears his throat. "I'm saying that I'll take you back home. For one thing, we owe you, big time, and for another, you need our help, simple as that, and Appa can get there faster than a ship can."

Suki looks around. "But what about what's going on here?"

Aang smiles. "I'm not entirely sure how much more I can do from here. The thing about being Avatar, I've discovered, is that you have to realize when you should get involved, and when you shouldn't." He looks to me. "We don't want this to start looking like some foreign invasion, after all, and let's face it, the Avatar will never be the most welcome face in the Fire Nation, especially when it comes time to take this war to the north."

I felt a lot of things in that moment, a veritable riot of emotions, but the biggest one of them was, without a doubt, _pride_. I barely recognized the young man sitting before me. What happened to the loud-mouthed, short-sighted brat? He's gone.

_So much is gone…_

"So," Toph asks, "you going to get to the fucking point, or what?"

Aang signs. "Well, the point is that it's time I returned to the Earth Kingdom. This war will be won there as much as here, and our allies will need a rallying point. Who better than the Avatar?" He turns to Suki. "Plus, we'll be able to take you home and, if all goes well, save your sisters." He smiles. "It's literally the least we could do."

Suki wipes her eyes. "I can't ask you to do that…"

He flashes a smile that I can only call _Classic Aang_. "Good think I'm offering, then!" He turns to the rest of us. "Anyone else want to tag along?"

Sokka raises his hand. "I'd like to come, if you two don't mind." He blushes, rubs the back of his neck. "I mean, I haven't seen Kyoshi in so long, it'd be nice to go back. Plus, if the war in the Earth Kingdom is about to really heat up, I'd like to join Dad there."

Suki gives him a watery smile. "Thank you, Sokka."

He adopts his _cool pose_. "It's no big. Toph? You coming?"

Toph chews her lip. She looks confused and indecisive, two things I've never really seen in her face before. It's a bit startling, to say the least.

"I…I don't know, guys. I really don't." She runs a hand through her hair, leaving a tangled mess in its wake that matches her face very well. "I mean…it'd be nice to go home again, and as much as my parents and I never got along, I'm still worried about them and would like to make sure they're okay, but…" She looks to Katara and I. "Well…I like it here, too, and I imagine that having an earthbender around would be of some use at some point." She turns back to Sokka. "So, really…I just don't know. I'll have to think about it."

Aang nods. "I understand."

Sokka reaches around Suki and ruffles Toph's hair. "Totally, kid. We're behind you no matter what." He turns to Katara. "So, sis, what about it? You coming, too? It'll be fun!"

Katara sighs. Her grip on my knee tightens even more. I reach over, lay a hand on hers, squeeze it. "Sokka," she says, "you know the answer to that."

He blinks. "What now?"

She gives him an indulgent smile. "My place is here, now, Sokka. You know that."

His face falls. "Oh…I probably should've known that, huh? Still…any chance I can talk you out of it?"

She hooks a thumb at me. "Please. Zuko already tried."

I nodded. "Repeatedly."

"And you don't have _half_ the methods of persuasion that Sparky has available," Toph tosses in with a wink."

Sokka pinches his nose. "Gods-dammit, Toph…"

Aang swallows his last piece of orange. "Wouldn't those methods, if anything, make her _more_ likely to stay?"

Sokka rounds on him. "Oh, fuck me, not you, too."

Aang frowns. "What'd I do?"

Sokka sighs. "Nothing." He shakes his head, looks to Katara. "So, you're gonna go for it, huh? The whole _Fire Lady_ gig?"

Katara shrugs. "Maybe. It's been pretty fun so far, that's for sure, and after all, the Fire Lord _is_ my boyfriend."

I cough into my hand. "Don't let the boys hear you say that. They'll drag us out of bed and marry us this very night."

Toph chuckles. "Now _that_, my friends, would be a sight to see."

"Hey! I didn't fall for that one!" Sokka shouts.

Suki blinks in confusion. "Come again?"

Aang sighs. "Don't worry about it. You'll catch on eventually."

Suki nods. "Oh…alright then." She turns to me. "So, can I ask you two a question, now that all that's settled?"

We nod. "Sure," Katara says.

Suki waves at the map. "Why did you guys bring this in here? Any particular reason?"

Sokka chuckles. "Zuko has a kink for maps, and my sister has a kink for watching him read them."

I laugh. "While both of those are rather true, that's not why we brought it." I nod at Katara. "If you would do the honors, my lady…"

She scrunches her nose. "I'm really going to have to forbid you from calling me that; it's ridiculously distracting." She pecks me on the cheek, then turns to the rest of the group. "The thing is, we had a feeling that we would soon face a parting, but we also knew that Appa needs a rest, right, Aang?"

He nods. "At least a week, if we're going to attempt the flight back to Kyoshi from here."

"Exactly, so you guys will have a week to kill," Katara continues. "I was thinking, how best to spend our time before a potentially long parting? Sure, we could party like there's no tomorrow, which is no doubt what Toph would suggest."

"Fuckin' A," Toph comments.

"Which," Katara says, "as appealing as it is, is not the best to use our time. There are a lot of practical issues to deal with, and a lot of decisions to make before this rebellion is really off and running, and, to be blunt, my boytoy here is going to have to undertake a lot of those tasks himself."

I nod. "I'm going to be a busy little beaver for a while."

"Good thing your uncle and I are here to help with that," Katara says, smiling. She turns back to the map and the group. "One of those little tasks, by the way, is a delicate situation about two days' ride north of here, in a little town called," she checks the map, "_Nagano._"

"What's the problem?" Aang asks.

"Basically," Katara says, "back when the Fire Nation was actively hunting waterbenders among the Southern Water Tribes, they ended up with a lot of captives, mostly people whom they _thought_ were waterbenders but ended up…well…_not being so._ This was back under Azulon, so, instead of just killing them all, which no doubt would be Ozai's move, they put them in a camp in this little village. After a while, Azulon died, Ozai took over, and the focus of the war shifted back to the Earth Kingdom."

"Plus," I say, "my father was convinced that his father's armies had either gotten all the waterbenders, or that there weren't enough left to make a difference. And besides, as it became more and more clear how many Air Nomads had escaped my great-grandfather's pathetic attempt at genocide, the waterbender hunt began to seem pointless, even by my father's rather low standards."

"And with all of that going on," Katara continues, "everyone seems to have just kind of…_forgotten_ about the prisoners at this village. As far as Lord Okayama and General Hattori can determine, none of the prisoners are even in the camp anymore. But, while Kuupik and his ships are still here, it's an excellent chance to show the world that Zuko means business about ending the war and helping Aang restore balance to the world."

"So," Sokka says, "we go up north, get all the prisoners who want to go home, bring them back here, make a bit of a show of it, and score some feel good points for ourselves."

Katara nods. "Exactly. It's the perfect thing, really. The village is well within the area that's declared for Zuko, the local garrison is under Hattori's command, the road there and back is clear, and we get to something that is both _the right thing to do_ and the _political expedient thing to do._"

Toph nods. "That's…that's actually…it's really rather brilliant." She turns to me. "Totally Katara's idea, right?"

I smile. "And my uncle's, too, but mostly Katara. There are actually a few old camps like that throughout the south, but this is one we can something about right now."

"Are there any other prisoner-of-war camps in the Fire Nation?" Aang asks.

"Kind of," I say. "The old ones like this are mostly in the south, but there are several newer and, well, _less pleasant_ ones scattered through the north, which means they're beyond my reach for the time being." I tap Nagano's spot on the map. "But this, right here, is my chance to show that my father's way is well and truly _done_. We start releasing prisoners, no matter how long they've been in captivity, and there's no going back. My people will really have to make a choice."

"And how are they going to handle that choice?" Suki asks.

Katara leans back into my shoulder. "Well, to start with, Nagano's headman actually sent a petition asking us to officially release the prisoners, because he didn't feel it was fair to keep calling them that if Zuko was going to end the war."

"Which means," Aang says, grinning, "that change really _is_ coming."

I nod. "It is, no matter what I have to do to make it so."

"And besides," Katara says, "what we really need is a good old fashioned good deed, like in the old days."

Aang nods. "I'm in."

"Me, too," Sokka says.

"I could use something to do besides brood," Suki throws in.

"The fuck are we even bothering to talk about it for?" Toph contributes.

I smile. "It's settled then. We leave in the morning. Two days out, a day or two there, two days back, and we can have an actually fucking victory in our ledgers."

What can I say? Optimism doesn't die just because there's a vicious civil war brewing.

* * *

Holy shit, guys! That was a long one! My bad! Still, there was some ground to cover, and I was sick to death of briefings, so why not make it another little scene with the Gaang? I mean, we all like those, right? Especially when Toph gets to crack wise.

Just to prepare you guys, yes, the Gaang are going to split up. Sokka, Suki, and Aang are definitely headed back to the Earth Kingdom; I'll let you guys decide if Toph should go with them. What they end up doing there I'll leave for a later story, but the thing is, the world of my Avatar-verse is a big place, and my Aang can't just leave half the world to flounder just because he wants to chill with his friends. He doesn't do that anymore; there's a lot to do, and he can contribute more in the Earth Kingdom than he can in the Fire Nation. Plus, you didn't actually think the Gaang was going to do nothing while Suki cried herself to sleep nearly every damn night, did you?

By the way, I've noticed a few rather…well…_vaguely unpleasant_ reviews pop up on here, which is cool, it really is. I don't know if I've addressed this before (and even if I have, it bears repeating), but I have to make clear that I don't want any thread wars going on up in here. Though I will express sadness that every single negative review has been, in some way, rather nasty to me. That's kind of depressing. If you have a legit problem, then have it, no need to bark at me. I expect better of you guys!

In the next chapter, the Gaang arrives in Nagano, receives a very warm reception, and is feeling pretty damn good about themselves, especially when Katara meets a very intriguing woman. Stay tuned!


	54. Chapter 54

54. NAGANO IS A MODERATELY SIZED VILLAGE, ABOUT ONE-TO-TWO-THOUSAND PEOPLE, NESTLED AMID THICKLY-WOODED HILLS AND ROLLING FIELDS OF AUTUMN-BURNT GRASS. We made good time there, arriving early on the third day out from Kagoshima. We rode komodo-rhinos, which Aang, typically, enjoyed greatly. We rode at the front of a small column of about fifty men, half Fire Nation, half volunteers from Kuupik's men; it seemed a good idea to bring some members of one of the Water Tribes on such a mission while we had them with us. Faithful Muto rode with us, carrying my banner, and everywhere we went, people cheered and bowed as we passed. The weather was marvelous as we entered the village, barely a cloud in the sky, the smell of fall strong and heavy in our nostrils. This was, I decided not long into our ride, a good decision, just the kind of break we needed from all that was happening to us.

We arrived in excellent spirits. At night, we'd make camp and laugh and tell stories long into the night. What really gladdened me was the sight of my men and Kuupik's men becoming fast friends on the ride. They didn't bother to separate their camps, and though every young man there had been raised in societies at war with each other, they laughed and sang and drank and just in general enjoyed the excursion. All agreed that it was a welcome relief. Kagoshima had quickly become something of a second capital, and was a furious beehive of activity. All welcomed the chance for some fresh air.

As we rode into the village, it became clear that they were waiting for us. It seemed that the entire village, and potentially people from all around the area, had come out to line the main road in their best clothes and cheer and bow as we arrived. The village headman and elders were all gathered in the town square, and bowed their foreheads to the ground as I dismounted. I waited for Katara to dismount and join me, and arm-in-arm, we returned the bows and greetings. I then introduced my companions, whereupon Sokka impressed us all with his progress in bowing etiquette. His technique still left a lot to be desired, but he was getting there.

"So," I say, the introductions complete, "you must be Elder Shimoda."

The headman bows his head. He's a middle-aged man, young to be headman, with dark hair fringed with grey and a thin beard clinging to his jaw. He's of moderate height, but obviously intelligent, and seems genuinely pleased to see me in his village.

"That is correct, your majesty. It's an honor to have you here. We honestly weren't expecting you so soon, nor even expecting you yourself at all."

I smile. "Well, there's a large unit of Northern Water Tribe warriors in Kagoshima right now, preparing to sail for the Earth Kingdom. It only seemed right that, if it was possible to free some of their brethren before they left, we should do so as soon as possible."

Elder Shimoda grins. Small villages like this operated on the principle of reciprocity, and it was no doubt something that a man like Shimoda would understand well. Someone did you a good turn, and you did your best to do a good turn back. "I understand, your majesty." He turns to Katara. "And you must be the same Lady Katara that we have already heard so much about."

Katara smiles under the attention. "I hope you haven't heard anything unpleasant."

Elder Shimoda shrugs. "Depends on who you ask, though the only negative comments are from those who none of us are inclined to believe."

I frown. "I see my father's propaganda has left no stone unturned."

Elder Shimoda shrugs again. It really is a magnificent shrug; someday, I will have to pull aside a rural peasant and ask them where they learn to shrug like that. "We long ago stopped paying attention to such things. That said, I believe that you are here for a reason."

I nod. "I am, Elder. Are the former prisoners present?"

Elder Shimoda waves in the direction of what is obviously the village inn. "Not here, but I took the liberty of gathering as many as I could in our inn. They're gathered there now."

Sokka pops an eyebrow. "_As many as you could?_"

Elder Shimoda bows his head. "The camp was closed almost a generation ago. In that time, some of the former prisoners have died, some we've simply lost track of, and a few have actually put down roots and made clear to me that they wanted to stay. All of the ones in the inn are, for the most part, people who wish to return home."

"Well then," Katara says, taking my arm, "we mustn't keep them waiting, eh, your majesty?"

I roll my eyes. "Of course not." I turn to Elder Shimoda. "Elder, please, lead the way."

At the entrance to the inn, Shimoda gestures the rest of the gang in, but politely holds Katara and I back. The crowd is dispersing, except for girls flirting with the soldiers and fathers glaring at the soldiers flirting back. I turn to Shimoda, whose placid exterior of _village headman greeting distinguished visitors _has vanished in the blink of an eye. In its place is a man bearing a great weight, and greatly disturbed. His eyes dart around, and he nervously shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Katara, picking up the same signals I am, lays a hand on his shoulder. "Elder Shimoda," she asks, "is everything alright?"

He nods, sighs. "I'm afraid, your Grace, that I must make a confession. I'm afraid that I submitted my petition for help to dispose of the former prisoners under false pretenses."

I arch an eyebrow. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Indeed, your Grace. If I'd known that you yourself were going to come, I would've been more clear. But, since you're here…well…the thing is, we do have a problem, but as you can see, the people from the Southern Water Tribes are not it."

I nod. "I can see that, considering none of them even seem to be prisoners anymore."

He shrugs. "The government stopped sending us funds to care for them some time ago. What were we to do, kill them? So we let them go, under the understanding that they stay in the area. After about a decade, we stopped even worrying about that, though most did." He frowns. "They were not treated well, back when the camp was in operation, and we felt that we had to make some kind of amends. Cruelty is not our natural state."

Katara smiles. "Of course not, good sir. But I do believe that you are dancing around the issue."

He licks his lips. "Heh…I am, my lady." He takes a deep breath. "Well…for the past year, we've had…a _problem._ Every night, on the full moon, one of our people disappears. No warning, no pattern, nothing, they just…vanish into the night." He looks to the ground. "Several of them have been children, and sadly, we can't even be sure that that's all that have disappeared. This might have been going on for far longer, under our nose."

I furrow my brow. "Did you notify the authorities?"

He nods. "We did, but the provincial government had bigger things to deal with, and when we sent a request to Miyako, we were told to just blame it on one of the former prisoners and forget about it."

"Did you?" Katara asks.

He shakes his head. "At least one of those who has disappeared is the son of one of the former prisoners and a local woman. If it truly was a former prisoner, surely they wouldn't attack one of their own? No, it must be some madman, probably a deserter or an outlaw, but we don't have the knowledge needed to flush him out, and too many of our young men have been dragged off to the war to mount any kind of real patrol." He lowers his eyes again. "We're helpless, your majesty."

I bow to him. "With the gods as my witness, Elder Shimoda, my friends and I will get to the bottom of this. If it as you say, then it is simply a case of a lone monster taking the opportunity to prey on an exposed community."

His face brightens as if the very sun was rising beneath his skin. "You have no idea how much of a weight that takes off my shoulders, your Grace, as much as it pains me to concern you with such trivial matters."

I brush the objection aside. "No matter is too trivial for a Fire Lord, Elder Shimoda."

He chuckles. "And that, your majesty, is why so many are willing to come to your cause, your Grace." He slicks back some hair, recomposes himself. "Now, I do believe that there is at least one matter you can take care off right away, and so, if you will follow me…"

The inn itself was a fairly typical one, dark and smoky even in the bright light of day. Inside we found about thirty men and women, most dressed in Fire Nation clothes but a few in faded Water Tribe outfits. They all stood as I entered, and bowed in unison, showing just how long they had lived in my Homeland. Most were grey-haired, the youngest being at least in their fifties. Even those who wore Fire Nation clothes had donned various Water Tribe accessories, and several had been engaged in a lively conversation with Sokka when we entered. I found myself feeling…well…_nervous_. There people had been brutalized by my forefathers, ripped from their homelands and isolated for at least a generation, with no real way to get home and no assurance that, if they tried to escape, they wouldn't be hunted down by the very people they now called neighbors, nevermind how they might have been treated when their captivity was fact rather than merely in name. Seeing them there filled me with a great shame. I found words sticking in my throat. My scar began to ache, and tears of shame began to seep into my eyes.

_How could we have come so far down this road to madness?_ I didn't know, I had no answers; I had a feeling that this would be one answer I would never find. There was only one thing I knew: _This ends __**now**__._

I still didn't know what to say, though. Thank Agni for Katara, who squeezed my arm and began to speak.

"Good morning," she said. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to see so many of my people gathered in one place."

From behind the bar, an old woman stepped out into the light. She was short and frail, with deep lines of care worn into her face. She had pale blue eyes, and she wore a pendant similar to Katara's around her neck. She moved with a fluid grace that seemed out of place with her years, and yet from her radiated a furious, almost awe-inspiring strength. The focus of the room instantly shifted to her; everyone there seemed to recognize her as their leader, the Elder of the Southern Water Tribe in exile, so to speak. She smiled, and when she spoke, she sounded like the kindly old grandmother everyone wishes they had.

"You are of the Southern Water Tribe?"

Katara bowed her head. "I am, both myself and my brother here. We are the children of Hakoda and Kya, of the Yupik tribe."

The old woman's face brightened, and for a second, I saw the beautiful young woman that she had once been. "_The Yupik tribe?!_ I was of the Yupik tribe!"

A squeal almost slipped out of Katara's throat, swallowed so fast that I'm fairly certain only myself and Sokka recognized it; we marked the occasion with a smile and a wink at each other. Katara slipped her arm out from mine, stepping towards the old woman.

"No way! That is…_insane!_"

The old woman nodded, her smile growing wider and wider. "I agree, and yet, here we are! What is your name, young lady?"

Katara did a little curtsy. "I am called Katara, and this is my brother, Sokka." Sokka tapped two fingers to his forehead in acknowledgement. "And this," Katara continued, reaching over, grabbing my hand, and pulling me to her side, "is…well…this is my boyfriend, Zuko."

The old woman looked me up and down like a piece of meat. "Zuko, eh? Well, he sounds and looks like the young man they keep telling me is going to be our next Fire Lord, no matter what that madman in Miyako may have to say about it."

I feel a blush coming on, and I fight it down with difficulty. "Well, gods willing, that man is, indeed, me."

There was something…something _strange,_ that flitted through the old woman's eyes then. It was like…the kindness just sort of…_disappeared_, like a puff of smoke in a magic act. I don't know how to describe what I saw then, because it was gone in an instant, so fast that I wasn't entirely sure I'd actually seen what I thought I saw. It was just…I really don't know, but…

_For a second her eyes reminded me of my father's…_

I shook the insane thought away. I was obviously starting at shadows; I was becoming so used to horror and heartache that the possibility of a few days filled with good deeds was now too much for my brain to handle. I took hold of the thought, crushed it into a ball, and threw it out my ear. I didn't need such ideas now. There were here before me a group of people who needed to return home, and an innocent village to save from some lone madman hiding in the woods. What could be simpler, or easier?

And besides, if the woman experienced a moment of disgust for me, what of it? She had little reason to feel anything charitable towards me; no doubt if I was in her shoes, I'd feel at least a moment or two of hatred, on a good day. So, like I said, I shook the thought away.

So preoccupied was I with this random digression, that I almost missed an important detail. I turned to Katara and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. What did you say?"

Katara rolled her eyes at my absent-mindedness. "You'll have to excuse my dear Zuko, miss; he has a tendency to get lost in his thoughts sometimes."

The old woman brushed the apology away. "Oh, don't worry about it, my dear. I'm sure the Fire Lord has many things on his mind."

Katara laughed. "Well, if he knows what's good for him, he'll concentrate this time around!" She turned back to me, took my hand, and held it tight. "I was telling you my tribal sister's name, Zuko."

I smile, bow my head. "My humblest apologies, my ladies. And it was…?"

"Hama," the old woman said. "My name is Hama."

* * *

_Holy fucking shit guys, it's Hama! _Now, I won't get into what that means here, because some people (such as my girlfriend) are reading this who have never watched an episode of ATLA in their lives, and thus have no idea what the hell's about to go down, but I will take the time to nudge and wink with my fellow fans.

By the way, Aang and Toph and Suki are totally there. In fact, they're in the room while all of this is going on, but when I took the time to point them out, it fucked with the flow. So, just picture Toph in a corner being Toph, and Aang doing some kind of wicked airbender trick, and Suki doing her best not to think about her sisters back home. That's writing sometimes, guys; you gotta roll with the plot. Don't worry, though; they'll have a lot more to do in the next few chapters.

In the next chapter, Katara becomes fast friends with Hama, while the others look into the mysterious disappearances, and Sokka and Toph begin to smell a rat. Stay tuned!


	55. Chapter 55

55. AS SOON AS THE SUN KISSES THE SKY COME MORNING, KATARA IS OUT OF OUR BED LIKE A SHOT. The others are staying at the inn, but Shimoda has offered Katara and I the use of his home, and it would be rude to decline. We do manage to stand our ground on using his own bedroom, though; he seems a little put out, until his wife nudges him, winks, and reminds him of how people our age like to use beds. At that, he nods knowingly, taps a finger to his nose, and agrees to let us use the guest bedroom. It's a small room, bare and minimal, and the bed leaves a lot to be desired, but Katara and I make it work.

Katara is almost beside herself with glee. Finding not just members of her people, but an actual member of her specific tribe, is cause for a level of excitement that she does nothing to hide. She's slated to spend the entire day with the woman called Hama, and her joy is so infectious that I'm actually glad to see her run off into the early morning glow. She stops a few paces past the front door, turns, and gives me a coy grin.

"You know, your Grace, it would be very unbecoming to have your _lady_ walk across town unescorted."

I laugh. "My lady, might I point out that the inn is, quite literally, down the street."

She sighs, slowly turns away from me. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to face the long journey alone." She puts a hand to her head. "I don't know how I'll ever survive…"

I chuckle as I walk up beside her and let her thread her arm through mine. "Oh, if only Toph could see you now."

She sticks a tongue out at me. "Hey, I never get to act gushy, what with you having to be all _Fire Lord-y _back in Kagoshima and her snark lurking around every corner. Let me indulge."

I kiss her forehead. "Indulge away, my dear."

We find Toph and Suki lounging on the front porch of the inn, Toph lazily smoking while Suki lazily watches the clouds go by. It's a beautiful day, the sky threaded with clouds of tattered silk. Toph whistles as she senses our approach.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Suki, but I do believe that our Sugar Queen is being all gushy with Lord Hotman."

Suki nods. "I do believe you're right, my dear."

I turn to Toph. "_Lord Hotman?_"

She shrugs. "It seemed appropriate."

"How come?"

"Well, ever since I heard one of the servant girls back in Kagoshima whisper, _You know, if nothing else, the new Fire Lord will definitely be hotter than the old Fire Lord,_ the idea for the new nickname has been percolating in my mind."

Katara rolls her eyes. "You know, you can try all you want, but I'm never going to get jealous. I'm just not the jealous type."

Toph scoffs. "Says the girl who bent ice cold water all over a noblewoman who kept trying to scope her boyfriend's ass."

I round on Katara. "Come again?"

Katara waves me off. "I don't know what she's talking about. You know how crazy this girl can be."

"Hey," Toph says, "it could be worse, I could be blind."

Suki sighs. "Sokka's not here, you know."

I look around. "The fuck is Sokka, anyways? He and Aang are supposed to be out here with you guys."

Suki jerks a thumb inside. "Aang's inside, doing airbending tricks for his latest gaggle of groupies."

Katara laughs. "Oh, gods, that must be a blast from the past for you."

"Heh…tell me about it," Suki says. "As for Sokka…I'm sure he's still snoring away somewhere upstairs."

I pinch my nose. "Of course he is." I turn to Katara, kiss her softly. "Have my boyfriend duties been discharged for the day?"

She wrinkles her nose. "Well, maybe for the morning. I'll get back to you about the rest of the day, though."

I sigh. "I'm sure you will."

She winks. "Damn straight. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have day planned. Suki? You're coming, right?"

Suki rises from the porch, brushes herself off. "Indeed I am. You coming, Toph?"

Toph scoffs. "Please. I've got better things to do."

"Actually," I say, an apologetic tone in my voice, "you might as well. I won't be able to use you until later."

Toph rounds on me. "Why not? Aren't you boys going to go investigate this disappearance thing?"

"We are, yes, and trust me, we'll need you later. But you have to understand, these people are…well…_conservative_ might be a nice word for it, and I doubt you'll want to spend the morning listening to Elder Shimoda struggle for euphemisms for unpleasant things."

She makes a face. "Ugh, you're right. Fuck that. But you'll bring me in once you're done with him, right?"

I bow. "On my honor as Fire Lord. Besides, like I said, I imagine that an earthbender who can see through the ground would come in handy when looking at a crime scene."

Toph rolls that around in her head. "Oh, alright, I'll play along." She turns to Katara. "Will there be any official bullshit I have to sit through?"

Katara sighs. "Only a bit, since I've been put in charge of getting the Water Tribesmen who want to go home packed and ready." She walks over, puts an arm around Toph's shoulders. "But rest assured, there'll be plenty of opportunity for you to growl and snark and just in general show that you don't have time for this shit."

Toph brightens. "Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?"

Suki snorts. "I'm sure you'd find a way. Now, come on, I'm sure Hama is growing impatient."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," Katara says. "You see, Hama is Water Tribe, which means that we're now running on _Water Tribe Time._"

Suki arches an eyebrow. "And what's _Water Tribe Time?_"

"It means," Katara explains, "that we get there when we get there. My brother, as you have noticed, is a big fan."

Suki rolls her eyes. "Tell me about it."

"That said," Katara continues, "the Fire Nation doesn't work that way, so let's go roust my brother and the Avatar so my boyfriend can do his Fire Lord stuff."

"And then," Toph says, "we can move right do you doing Fire Lady stuff."

Katara winks at me. "You can put it like that. Now, come on."

With a final huff, Toph follows Suki and Katara inside, and I sit down for a cigarette. I'm about halfway through when Aang and Sokka appear, Aang looking bright and cheerful and Sokka looking like he just got smacked upside the head. I cluck my tongue as I look at him. "Katara not happy with your speed?"

He shrugs, rubbing his temple. "Not really, no. I mean, gods, I was up, wasn't I? Is it a crime to want to take my time with my breakfast?"

"Not when people are waiting on us," Aang points out.

Sokka glares at him. "What, you're on their side, too?"

"I'm on whatever side won't get me smacked by Katara."

I thump Aang in the arm. "You and me, both, brother. Now, if you two are done being…well…_yourselves_, we have work to do."

"Ugh, _fine._" Satisfied with his final protest, Sokka joins us as we return to Shimoda's home. On the way there, he bums a smoke off me and is puffing away when he snaps his fingers. "Hey, I almost forgot to mention, did you know that Hama's a waterbender?"

I turn to him. "No shit? I thought none of the prisoners here were waterbenders."

He shrugs. "Maybe none of the others, but Hama sure is. I happened to catch her bending soup into bowls a little while ago, and she made me promise not to tell Katara, that she wanted it to be a surprise."

"So why tell me?"

"I dunno. Just wanted to tell someone, and it's not like you can run back and tell Katara, anyways."

"True."

"Is that going to be a problem, with sending them back home and everything?" Aang asks.

I shake my head. "I shouldn't think so. Just because the people who ran the camp missed one, doesn't make any of the survivors anything less than people who should be able to return home if they want to. If anything, it shows just how pointless the effort to stamp out waterbending in the South really was, if they couldn't even find a waterbender right here under lock and key." I look back to Sokka. "Did you get the impression that she was powerful or a threat or whatever?"

Sokka shakes his head. "Not really, no. I mean, she seems like a really nice lady, reminds me a lot of Gran-Gran, and I don't imagine she's gotten much practice in the past however-fucking-long-it's-been." He blows out a thick stream of smoke. "Just thought it was interesting, is all."

We're walking around Shimoda's home now. In the back is a stable and an old barracks, left over from when the camp required a permanent garrison, which is where our escort should be formed up and ready to get to work. Shimoda and a few local men should be back there as well, waiting for us. We're halfway around the building when I stop, holding my arms out to hold back the others.

"What is it, Zuko?" Aang asks.

I run a hand through my hair. "I'm not sure…did you guys get any kind of weird…I dunno…_weird vibe_ off of Hama?"

Aang shrugs. "Not really, no. She seems pretty harmless to me."

Sokka, though, is stroking his chin, which is never the best of signs. "You know, now that you mention it, she did seem to be a little…_off_ or something."

I focus on him. "What do you mean?"

He chews the side of his lip for a moment. "I…I don't know. I can't really put my finger on it, but there's just something…" He seems on the verge of making a conclusion, then waves it away. "Eh, I dunno. I haven't a clue what the fuck I'm talking about."

"It's probably just how anyone would be, after going through what she's gone through," Aang offers.

I nod. "Yeah, that's probably it." I reach back into my mind, try to conjure up that image, that momentary…_something_, that I glimpsed in her eyes, but it's gone, a hazy nothing-ness floating in corners of my consciousness. "I dunno, it's probably nothing. But it's just…" I fumble around for a bit, then decide to drop the matter. "I'm probably just grasping at straws here. I mean, everything's going so well, I'm probably just trying to look around the corners too much."

"It's not a bad habit to have," Sokka points out.

"Not generally, though, but it's important not to let it take over my life," I reply. "Down that road lies my father, and I'd rather not contemplate it." I straighten myself, putting on a smile. "Now, enough of poking around in the shadows. Let's get to work, shall we?"

* * *

I was going to get right to business, but I decided that I was enjoying the little moments here too much to just skip right past them. Man, if I ever get the chance to make this into something for the general public, I'm going to have to cut out so much fucking fluff…but hey, you guys like a little fluff, right? I know I do.

So, a couple things before we move on. One, why are Katara and Zuko being so openly couply all of a sudden, when it seems a little OOC? Well, the thing is, they don't ever really _get_ to be openly gushy, especially now, that Zuko's becoming a Fire Lord in fact as well as name and his followers tend to treat Katara as the Fire Lady. Thus, when they get a chance to get away from all that for a few days, well, they get to be cute and gushy somewhere besides behind closed doors. Just heading a complaint off at the pass there.

Two, it seems, ladies and gentlemen, that I have picked up my first troll. This makes me both sad and kind of proud at the same time. Sad, because, well, I was kind of hoping this site wasn't like that, and proud because, well, it kind of feels like I popped my internet cherry. I am now a full-fledged member of the internet, because I've picked up a troll who feels that the best way to spend their time is to read something they obviously don't like, which brings me back to being sad again. I mean, why waste your time doing that? Go read something that makes you happy! I mean it, man. Life's too short!

In the next chapter, Zuko and friends learn about the disappearances, Zuko's men scour the countryside looking for something suspicious, and the nagging sense of unease in the back of both Zuko and now Sokka's minds begins to grow. Stay tuned!


	56. Chapter 56

56. WE FIND EVERYONE WE'RE SUPPOSED TO FIND IN THE PLACE THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO BE, DRESSED AND FORMED UP AND READY FOR ORDERS. Shimoda and the six local men he's brought with him look decidedly out of place in the open area by the old barracks, seven comparatively slouching civilians not ten feet from twenty-four soldiers and warriors standing at attention, armor sparkling in the sunlight. As soon as we come into view, Muto steps out from the men and strides towards us, bowing to me as he meets us.

"Then men are ready, your Grace," he intones.

I bow back. "As I knew they would be." I smile at Muto. "You really have to stop being so good at whatever job you have, Muto. You're giving me expectations that are much too high."

Muto, who, for the record, is in his early twenties, actually _blushed_ at that, stammering out a, "Thank you, your majesty," before bowing again and nearly tripping over himself as he followed me over to where Shimoda and the locals stood. As we arrived, Shimoda and the other men all bowed deeply, waiting for me to tell them to rise, one of the customs of dealing with the lower classes that I decide there and then is just going to have to go.

"Good morning again, Elder Shimoda."

He smiles. "Good morning again to you as well, your Grace." He bows his head to first Sokka, then Aang. "And good morning to you gentlemen, as well. It is an honor to have the Lady Katara's brother and the Avatar here in our village."

Sokka and Aang bow back. "The honor is all ours," Aang says, smiling his happy little smile. Sokka just turns a bemused grin at me, no doubt inspired by being referred to as, _the Lady Katara's brother_, and that this is, apparently, something in his favor. I shoot the bemused grin back before returning to Shimoda. "And these," I say, "are the men you and I spoke about?"

Shimoda nods. "They are, your Grace. Each man is an expert on the surrounding countryside. They should serve as able guides to your men."

"Excellent." I turn back to Muto. "Do you remember the outline I told you last night?"

He bows his head. "Of course, your Grace. I am to split the men into six groups, four apiece, each one consisting of two Fire Nation men and two of General Kuupik's men, and the guides are to help us search the area for anything suspicious."

I smile. "Perfect, Muto, as always. Remember: If you find something suspicious, mark it on your maps and return here immediately to report. I don't want any of the patrols trying to be heroes. We will investigate anything we find in force. Is that clear?"

He bows. "Absolutely, your Grace."

"Very good." I turn to the men Shimoda has gathered. "Can you men ride?"

One man bows before answering. "We can, your majesty."

"I took the liberty of borrowing six ostrich-horses from some of the local families, your Grace," Shimoda says.

I nod. "You, Elder Shimoda, are a credit to our people." I turn back to Muto. "Get the men mounted up. Disperse them around the village as we discussed last night." I turn back to the locals. "And you, gentlemen, have my gratitude and my thanks. Your service will not go unrewarded."

The men all bow again, trying to hide their smiles, and mumble their thanks, before going to mount up and join my men. We watch as Muto assigns each one to a patrol, gives some orders, and sends each group on its way. His is the last to go. He bows from his saddle to me, taps his fingers to his helmet, and then they're off in a cloud of dust and sunshine. Once they're gone, I turn back to Shimoda. "Elder Shimoda?"

"Yes, your Grace?"

"Did you know that the innkeeper, Hama, was a waterbender?"

Shimoda shrugs. "Everybody knows that. Her inn is such a big part of the community, though, that we try to keep it to ourselves."

"Why didn't you report her when you found out?" Sokka asks.

Shimoda looks distraught at the very idea. "Well, I mean, she's been here almost as long as I've been alive, and she's run that inn for close to twenty years, nevermind the fact that she's obviously harmless. Besides, even we simply country folk could never understand what the point of Fire Lord Azulon's waterbender hunt was, and once the government lost interest, there didn't seem any reason to draw their attention again." He smiles. "After all, that would serve us ill. Someone from Miyako might wonder how we have so many young men hanging about. Speaking of which," he turns back to me, "several of our youths have asked if they may return with you to Kagoshima, join your army. What should I tell them?"

"That every man is welcome, but that I will address that when I leave. For now, I do believe that there is someone you wish me to speak to?"

He nods. "Yes, there is. It's probably nothing, but there's an old man who lives at the edge of the village who claims to have heard…well…" He makes a face. "It's hard to explain. I had best leave it to him."

"Is there something wrong with this man?" Aang asks.

Shimoda makes a bit of a face. "Maybe not _wrong_, exactly, but he's very old and very…well…_old._ If I had a gold coin for every crazy thing he's claimed to have seen or heard, I'd live in a much bigger house. However, the situation _is_ strange, to say the least, and I felt that, given the circumstances, it wouldn't hurt to hear him out."

"It wouldn't hurt at all, Elder Shimoda," I say. I bow to him. "Lead the way."

Nagano is not a very large village, but like most rural places, it's a bit spread out; as a result, it's quite a significant walk from the center of the village to the very edge, where the old man in question, named Takeda, lives alone in what even the ever-polite Shimoda can only describe as, _a bit of a shack._ It's a pleasant walk, though; according to Shimoda, the village had been living in fear and confusion for some time, but none of that is on display. Everyone we pass is as calm and pleasant and kind as the weather and the surroundings. When I ask Shimoda about this, he explains that merely having the Fire Lord take an interest in their affairs has convinced the people that their troubles will soon be over, and that they no longer have anything to worry about. When I point out that, technically, I'm not Fire Lord yet, Shimoda merely smiles, taps his nose, and says, _Not as far as we're concerned._

We're about halfway to our destination when Sokka turns to Shimoda, an inquisitive expression on his face. "Elder, can I ask a question?"

Shimoda nods. "Of course, young man."

"How did Hama come to own the inn?"

Shimoda scratches his beard for a moment before replying. "Well…if I remember correctly – this was some time ago, after all – she appeared one day out of the blue and began working for the previous owner, an old woman named…oh…Yumiko, I believe." He nods. "Yes, the Widow Yumiko. Yumiko took a strong liking to Hama, and when Yumiko passed away, she left the inn to Hama and her husband."

I turn at that. "Her husband?"

Shimoda nods. "Yes, her husband. She married one of the former prisoners, not long after she came here. A man named Akycha, very wise man. He was the leader of the former prisoners before he passed away, when the position kind of fell to Hama by default."

"So, wait," Aang says, tearing himself from wherever in _Aang Land_ he was relaxing to join the conversation, "_when she came here?_ Was she not one of the original prisoners?"

Shimoda shrugs. "Of that, I'm not entirely sure. We never exactly did a census of those we let out, and when the garrison withdrew, they took their paperwork with them. All I know is that, not long after we made our agreement with the prisoners, Hama began working for the Widow Yumiko, and then she married Akycha, and then she began running the inn." He frowns, turns to me. "If I may ask, why are you and your friends so interested in Hama?"

I mirror his frown. "I'm not entirely sure, to be perfectly honest. It's probably just this strange case, making me look sideways at anything out of the ordinary." But was that really it? I just couldn't be sure. I looked over Shimoda's head at Sokka, who was looking right back at me, my thoughts mirrored in his face. There was something not all it was supposed to be here, hovering right below the surface. Maybe it was Hama, maybe she was just the key that would open that door (which seemed more likely), but somehow, it was there, this…this…_dammit, why can't I think of a better word than fucking __**something**__?!_ My scar twinged for a moment at the thought, and I reached up and waved it away. _I'm going crazy. _I arch an eyebrow at Sokka, whose eyes indicate that he's having the same suspicion about himself. We roll our eyes at each other and return our attention to Shimoda, who is telling Aang some of the stranger theories about what's been causing the disappearances.

"A werewolf?" Aang is saying, a chuckle in his voice. "I mean, I can't say that I would be shocked, considering some of the strange things I've seen in the past year-and-a-half, but still, _a werewolf?!_"

Shimoda nods. "That is certainly one of the stranger ideas floating around, Lord Avatar. I wish I could discount the fringe theories, but unfortunately, I can't dismiss anything anymore."

Sokka turns back to Shimoda. "Elder Shimoda, can I ask one more question about Hama?"

"Certainly. For a friend of the Fire Lord, anything."

Sokka smiles, bows his head. "Sorry to keep harping, but, what happened to her husband, this Akycha? You mentioned that he passed away."

Shimoda sighs unhappily. "A sad story, that. One day, about ten months ago or so, his heart just stopped in his sleep." He shakes his head. "Came out of nowhere, too. He was a strong, healthy man, who kept his figure and lived well. There was no reason for him to pass so suddenly, but unfortunately, these things happen." He ended this statement with a very resigned shrug, of the kind only a rural peasant can really accomplish.

A thought, peeking out from behind a pile of rubble in my mind. "Was it on the night of a full moon?"

Shimoda thinks about it for a moment. "Now that you mention it…yes, it was." He chuckles. "How strange is that? Maybe full moons are just unlikely in this village."

Sokka and I both look to each other. We nod, very, very slowly.

"Maybe," I say. "Maybe."

* * *

Oooooh! The motherfucking plot motherfucking thickens! I wonder what Old Man Takeda has to say!

Well, I don't. I know exactly what he has to say, and, if you watched that episode, you probably have an idea, but still…_whatever._

This chapter was basically my attempt to explain how a woman who was obviously Water Tribe could come to own and run an inn in the middle of a Fire Nation village. That little detail always bothered me, and I figured that this was a chance to fix that. Plus, there's another theme of the story that I'm getting at here, and you'll probably see that in a chapter or two.

Also, according to the Inuit Name List I googled for this chapter, _Akycha_ means _sun god_ in Inuit. Who knew?

In the next chapter, Old Man Takeda tells a ghost story, the boys discuss their misgivings, and Muto makes his report.


	57. Chapter 57

57. IF ANYTHING, CALLING THE HOME OF OLD MAN TAKEDA A _SHACK_ WAS AN INSULT TO SHACKS EVERYWHERE. It seems to lean in an invisible wind of gale-force proportions, and the wooden beams forming the outside are warped, faded, and cracked. It actually seems _dusty_; I'm not sure how a building can be dusty on the outside, but it manages. The image is completed by the surrounding ground, which seems to be the only spot of dirt in the entire village. It is, in short, a complete shithole, and Takeda seems to match.

He offers no bows or courtesies when he sees us. Either he's not aware of who I am, or he doesn't care; I'm inclined to believe the latter. The inside is as decrepit as the outside, a dark, dank hole, one room, covered in dirt and rotted tatami mats. There's a rusted stove in one corner, a pile of mildewed blankets in another, a chair that looks held together by the sheer force of its owner's denial of the forces of gravity, and a torn and faded mat along a wall that I presume is where he sleeps. The entire place has an air of stale whiskey and decay, much like Takeda himself. Takeda shuffles into the room ahead of us, a gnarled, twisted man of indeterminable age (Shimoda himself admits that no one is sure how old he is; all Shimoda can say is that the man was ancient when he himself was a boy, or at least seemed so) who growls at the slightest provocation and plops himself in the chair without so much as asking who we are or what we want. Indeed, his only reaction upon opening what passed for a front door was to glare, grunt, and walk back into his shack.

We array ourselves in front of him, Sokka, Shimoda, and me, while Aang, being Aang, starts wandering and poking around the room. The boy seems utterly fascinating, which stuns me, because there's really not much to see. We focus our attention on Takeda, who goes through an extremely complex process of lighting a cigarette that ends up smelling as foul as it looks, at the end of which he plucks a bottle of what is obviously homemade whiskey from beside his chair and takes a long, hard pull. We all stare at each other for what feels like a long time, until, finally, Shimoda coughs into his hand and speaks.

"Good morning, Mr. Takeda. How are you today?"

Takeda grunts. "Shitty, same as always. What's it to you?"

Shimoda takes a long, calming breath. I feel for him; being village headman means caring for all the members of one's community, no matter how tiresome it might be.

"Fire Lord Zuko and his friends, _including the Avatar_, have come to our village to look into some of our problems, including the disappearances. I thought it might be helpful to them if they heard what you have previously told me."

Takeda takes a long drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke curl in thick clouds up into the room. Even committed smokers like Sokka and me feel the need to cough and resist the urge to wave the smoke away. The tobacco really is awful; indeed, I find myself wondering if it's actually tobacco.

"Fire Lord Zuko, eh? Weren't you the one that crazy cunt Ozai banished?"

Now I'm the one taking a calming breath. "Yes, I was, but I have returned to claim the throne."

Takeda grunts (grunting seems to be his primary method of punctuation). "So you'll be the new crazy cunt I have to pay my taxes to?"

"You have to _pay_ taxes first, before you worry about who you pay them to," Shimoda points out.

"Like I care," is Takeda's response to that. I can't help but wonder if he's always been like this, or if something made him this way. My money's on some strange combination of both, a decision I reach around the same time as I decide that it really doesn't matter. Some people are just miserable, whether a genuine cause exists or not. "Point is, he's not Fire Lord yet, so I don't have to lick his asshole."

Shimoda turns to me with an apologetic look. I shrug, to let him know that I'm not going to get offended, at which point he turns back to Takeda.

"Mr. Takeda, be that as it may, we did come here for a reason."

Another grunt. "What, besides to interrupt my busy social schedule?"

Sokka has to swallow a laugh at that. I give him a look of sympathy; it's not a bad line. I turn back to the old man. "Mr. Takeda, if you wouldn't mind, we were wondering if you tell us about what you know about the disappearances."

Takeda contemplates his drooping cigarette for a few moments. "You know what the problem with this country is? Too many foreigners. Little dirty cunts, all over the place. Sozin and Azulon dragged them all here, and then, what, forgot about them? Lazy fucking cunts. As if this country didn't have enough lazy fucking assholes, we have to toss all of these _other_ lazy fucking assholes in the mix. Like all of those water lickers around here-"

Sokka pinches the bridge of his nose. "We're so not going to get anywhere, are we?" he whispers to me.

"I think this might be his usual way of getting somewhere," I whisper back. Shimoda, meanwhile, is trying to speed Takeda along.

"No doubt the Fire Lord is _very_ interested in your theories on what is and is not wrong with our great Homeland, but that's not why he's here."

Takeda takes another swig from his bottle. "Why the fuck's he here, then?"

Shimoda lets out a long, exasperated sigh. "About the disappearances."

Takeda grunts. "Ah, that. Well, why the fuck should I tell him? You sure as fuck didn't believe me the first fucking time I told you."

"I wasn't able to do anything with what you told me the first time. Your word isn't exactly strong enough to motivate your fellow citizens to investigate your claims, Mr. Takeda."

"Isn't my fault they're all too lazy and stupid and too much like empty cunts to see the truth when they hear it."

I turn to Shimoda. "Is he always like this?"

Shimoda grimaces. "Actually, this is a good day." He turns back to Takeda. "Well, I'm here now, with no less than three very important people who are here just to listen to what you have to say."

Takeda growls. "So why aren't you letting me fucking say it?"

I smile. "Anytime you're ready, Mr. Takeda. In fact," I continue, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a handful of gold coins, "you might be able to benefit from your constant vigilance on behalf of your community."

Takeda spits on the ground. "That's for my community. I look out only for myself."

I shrug, start to put my hand back in my pocket. "Oh, very well then…"

Suddenly, Takeda is leaning forward in his chair. "Not that I don't have anything to _say_, of course. What did you want to know again?"

Shimoda grinds his teeth. "_About what you saw on the last full moon._"

Takeda leans back in his chair. "Fine, fine, no need to let a badger-mole crawl up your ass about it." He toss his spent cigarette out the opening (I doubt there's even been class there to make it a _window_), takes his sweet time lighting another, then says, "So, right, the last full moon, right? That's what you cunts want to know?"

I nod. "If you wouldn't mind, Mr. Takeda."

He points at my hand. "Then I get the gold?"

"Of course."

He smiles. "Well, why didn't you say so?" He plucks his bottle back up, drinks from it, cradles it in his lap like a newborn baby. While he talks, his cigarette dangles from his lips through some perverse combination of spit and his faith that it would do so, bobbing up and down with his words.

"So, last full moon, I couldn't sleep, and I went out for a stroll. Not up to anything illegal or anything, _no matter what that stupid fucking pig-chicken fucker Seiko has to say about it_, just felt like stretching my legs."

I spare a glance at the homemade whiskey and decide to say nothing. Even my father wouldn't stir himself on account of some withered old wreck like this making illegal liquor, or whatever else he might be up to.

"So, like I said, I'm out by the old camp, you know, where they used to keep all the water fuckers in chains, or whatever the fuck they did to them, like I fucking care, you listen to them ramble on and you'd think nothing bad ever happened to anyone but them, like I don't have enough weight in my life to carry, I have to feel bad for them, too? Where was I…"

"You were out by the old prison camp," Sokka offers.

Takeda grunts "Ah, right. So, I'm out there, _just minding my own business not fucking doing anything, _but I've never been out that far before, I mean, I've been in that area, but I've never actually gone near the camp, no one has, not since it was abandoned and we let those water licking assholes out amongst us, but I guess I must've gotten lost that day, or gotten turned around. Point is, I ended up practically walking into the damned place."

_So, you were so drunk you didn't even really know where you were_, I translated in my head. Now I was beginning to see what Shimoda had meant, when he said that this man wasn't the world's most _reliable_ source of information.

"Now, a lot of people say that place is cursed, or some such bullshit, but not me, I wasn't afraid at all."

_You were too drunk to be afraid. _I know it's decidedly unroyal to think such things about one of my citizens, but Takeda made it hard not to ponder such things.

"So I thought, since I was there, why not poke around? Who knows what one may find? But I didn't get very far. I'm not ten paces inside where the walls used to be – not much of them left, not anymore, even in that fat cunt Azulon's day we were too lazy to build anything that would last – when I hear this strange sound. I don't know how to describe it, but it was almost like someone was screaming or crying or something. Only, it didn't sound like any human being was making the sound, more like something…_unnatural_, like my mother used to tell me about, gods rest her soul."

I turned to Sokka just in time to catch his look of, _This thing had a __**mom?!**_ All I could do was shrug and nod and shrug again before turning back to Takeda. "So," I ask, "what did you do?"

"I ran away of course! Ran right out of there as fast as I could! I knew about the disappearances, people and children snatched out of the night, gone like they were never there. You think I'm going to hang around in a place like that, after hearing a sound like that? Gods no! I came ran like Agni Himself was on my tail, right on back here. Told the asshole right here, as soon as I could, I did."

Shimoda turns to me. "Four days later, I hasten to add."

Takeda coughs. "Well, I was sick, see. The run must've taken something out of me."

I nod. _You were so scared, you drank yourself into a stupor, then had to sleep off the hangover._ What I said, though, was, "So, you're saying that there's something going on out at the old prison camp?"

Takeda grunts. "Now, why the hell do you have to repeat what I just fucking said, huh? I see you're just as stupid as your cunt of a father, I see."

I smile. "Well, hopefully, a little less stupid." I reach over and drop about ten gold pieces into the man's lap. As he's greedily scooping them up, I ask, "Was there anything else you saw?"

He's busy holding the coins up into the light and biting them to answer immediately, but when he does, he says, "What? No. If there was, wouldn't I have said something? Fucking idiots, I'm surrounded by."

I turn to Shimoda. "Well, Elder, I think that about does it, don't you?"

Shimoda lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh, yes, I do. Well, Mr. Takeda, thank you for your time. We'll leave you to enjoy your day."

"About fucking time," is all Takeda offers by way of farewell. We're starting to beat a hasty retreat, when, out of nowhere, Takeda shouts, "Wait! There was something else! I just thought of it!"

I stop, turn, smile. "And that was, Mr. Takeda?"

He levels a knobby finger at me. "I swear to the gods, I saw that old bat Hama on my way back into town."

Shimoda blinks. "Hama? You never said that before."

Takeda shrugs. "Well, I just thought of it. You expect me to remember everything?"

Shimoda shakes his head. "No, I suppose not."

"Was there anything else about the widow Hama, Mr. Takeda?" I ask. "Something you noticed about her while you were…_ahem_…returning home from your walk?"

Takeda shrugs. "No, she was just there. Suspicious, don't you think?"

"I'm sure." I turn back to the door. "Well, friends, I think we had best be off. Good day, Mr. Takeda."

"Fuck off," he growls, leaving us to let ourselves out.

On the way back into town, Shimoda is desperately apologizing for Takeda's behavior. We all try to reassure him, but it's obvious that he's deeply embarrassed. He's just paused for breath before Sokka says, "No, why would Hama be out there at that time of night, anyways?"

Shimoda shrugs. "Many reasons, assuming she even was."

I nod. "That's true. Takeda was probably so drunk, he might very well have imagined the whole thing. There's even a chance he never left his little shack at all, and just dreamed it all up in between piss breaks."

"Or he might just be mixing one night up with another," Aang points out.

"And that's the problem with Mr. Takeda," Shimoda says, sighing unhappily. "One can never take what he says at face value."

"Or any value at all," Sokka says.

Shimoda bows his head. "Precisely. Still, it's about the only thing I have to give you, at least, the only thing that we haven't investigated ourselves."

"Why haven't you investigated it?" I ask.

Shimoda grimaces. "What Takeda said was true, about many believing the place cursed. There simply weren't enough people in the village willing to take Takeda's word that it was worth looking into to go poking around, and besides, it's quite a ways out of town. If there was someone taking people there, why choose a place so isolated, and so out of the way?"

"It does seem inefficient," Sokka observes.

"But then," I say, "we're assuming we're dealing with someone rational. And you yourself said that you suspected an outsider, who wouldn't believe any local superstitions," I finish, looking at Shimoda.

Shimoda rolls this around for a moment before nodding. "You might just be right." He turns to me. "If you lent your weight to an expedition there, I might be able to gather some men."

I shake my head. "That won't be necessary, Elder Shimoda. As soon as my patrols return, I'll take them there myself. It would be better, if there is, indeed, trouble to be found."

Shimoda looks relieved at my decision. "That would probably be for the best, your Grace. I can't imagine that we would be of much assistance in such a situation."

"I'm sure your people would do just fine, Elder," I say, patting him on the shoulder, "but that's no reason to risk their lives."

"And for such consideration," he says, bowing his head, "I thank you."

The evening before, Shimoda has sent word through the village and the surrounding farms, that the Fire Lord wanted to hear from the families of those who had lost people in the disappearances. By the time we returned to Shimoda's house, there were about twenty or so people gathered outside, mostly older men and women, waiting to tell their stories. We listened to them all through the day, stopping only for lunch. Desperate for fresh air, Sokka, Aang, and I took our lunches outside, where we ate and talked and Sokka and I had a bit of a smoke break.

For the most part, we discussed what we had heard. There really did seem to be no pattern whatsoever. The youngest to disappear during the full moon was an eleven-year-old girl, while the oldest was a sixty-two-year-old man. As far as we could tell, none of those to disappear had been in any way connected with the operation of the prison camp, a possibility we thought worth investigating after hearing Takeda's story. Further, there did not seem to be any particular pattern among who was taken. The same family was never victimized twice, and several had friendly connections with the former Water Tribe prisoners; indeed, the eleven-year-old girl was the daughter of a Water Tribe man and a Fire Nation woman. No one could report any signs beforehand that their relatives were about to disappear, and none seemed to be involved in any kind of dispute or vendetta. Indeed, every single one of the taken seemed to belong to that group of people, so rare to find, who are considered _completely good people._ Just to name two, the little girl was well-liked by all, and the man in his sixties was none to be kind, caring, and thoughtful. All of this was deeply confusing, distressing, and, by lunch, the three of us could only come up with one possible interpretation:

"It's obvious that there's some kind of psycho on the loose." Sokka nods at his conclusion, leaning back against the wall of Shimoda's house as he puffed a cigarette.

Aang nods. "I can't help but agree. As much as I hate to apply any kind of labels, especially bad ones, to…well…_anyone_, it really does seem to be the work of someone who is severely disturbed."

I lean against the wall next to Sokka, puffing my own cigarette. "But what about the spiritual possibility? Could there be some kind of…I dunno…_spirit_, who's pissed off at the town?"

Aang shakes his head. "I mean, it's possible, I suppose, but I've looked all over, and I can't find any sign that the people of this village have done anything to anger any sort of spirit. The closest they came was allowing that prison camp to be here, and even then, they couldn't do anything about it, and as soon as they could, they did their best to make amends. If the former prisoners bear no grudges, why should the spirits?"

Sokka points with his cigarette. "But what about one of those asshole spirits?"

Aang ponders that for a moment. "Nah. Those spirits do exist, but they don't go about snatching people in the night like ghosts. From what I can tell, they don't do subtlety very well."

"I suppose it doesn't make much sense to haunt a village and not let them know who's doing it and why," I observe.

"Pretty much," Aang replies. "But, even we are left with some psycho, who could it be?"

"Well," I say, "if they're out in the countryside, the patrols will find them."

"Did you include the camp in the search area?" Sokka asks.

I shake my head. "I don't think so, but I can't imagine that the boys wouldn't have a look. Whether they do or not, I think we'll take the whole bunch out once they're back and look into it ourselves." I frown at my knees. "There's something about Takeda's story that strikes me as true."

"I know what you mean," Sokka says, "which is why I'm going to say the name we're all thinking: _Hama_."

Aang blinks. "I wasn't thinking about Hama."

"That's because you're a kind and trusting soul, Aang," I say, "but Sokka's right. I don't know why, I really don't, but…my scar tingles whenever her name drifts into my head. Something smells here, and it's not just the lingering odors from Takeda's shack."

Aang wrinkles his nose. "That place sure did reek."

"Focus, buddy," Sokka says, leaning forward. "This is serious stuff. Right now, the girls are with Hama. Do we know what they're up to?"

"They should still be at the inn," I say. "And even if they're not…what do we really have to stop them? Some weird, inexplicable gut feeling that we ourselves don't even fully believe?"

"And that I don't even share," Aang points out. "I mean, I get that you two have this sneaking suspicion, but I just don't see it."

"Which is partly my point," I continue, turning to Sokka. "You really want to take this to Katara?"

Sokka frowns. "Not really, no. Even Toph would find this all hard to believe, and she's always up for something fucked up and convoluted."

"It's all those ghost stories you and Katara keep telling her," Aang says, frowning. "I told you that those kinds of things leave a mark."

Sokka flips Aang the bird. "No offense, buddy, but up yours. But what I'm saying is-"

"That ghost stories fucking rock, and that Twinkletoes here should just admit that he's too pig-chicken to listen?"

We all turn to find Toph leaning against the wall, smiling that eternally bemused little smile of hers. We cheer her return and invite her to join us, at which point she immediately swipes a cigarette from me and glares until I light it. She puffs happily, before saying, "So, what's all this about stuff I wouldn't even believe?"

Aang points. "These two think there's something fishy about Hama."

Toph considers that for a moment. "Well, to be honest, I see where they're coming from. Lady has a fucked up heartbeat. Admittedly, she's old, so that's to be expected, but still, you know, something about her sets my danger senses tingling."

Aang rolls his eyes. "What, you, too? She's just a nice old lady who's been through a lot. Why do you guys have to keep seeing monsters lurking under the bed?"

"I'm saying we are, Aang," I explain, "it's just that there's something…well…_off_ about this whole business, and I can't help but think that Hama has something to do with it." I turn to Toph. "Speaking of Hama, where is she? By which I mean, where's Katara and Suki?"

Toph snorts. "Sugar Queen and Honey Buns-"

I arch an eyebrow. "_Honey Buns?_ That's what we're going with for Suki?"

Toph shrugs. "It's the best I could think of. I mean, she's kind of an all-around decent person, and there's not too much to make fun of. So, why not make a name based on her delicious ass?"

Sokka chokes on a puff of smoke. "How the hell do you know she has a _delicious ass?_"

Toph winks. "I don't, but thanks for confirming it for me."

Sokka groans, while I say, "So, Katara and Suki are…what, exactly?"

"Making out, of course."

"Sounds like it's Zuko's lucky day," Aang says with a grin.

"Nice one, Aang," Sokka says, still a little red-faced and wheezy. "When did you learn to deliver a line like that?"

Aang shrugs. "I'm pretty sure I just stole it from Toph. She's kind of the expert."

"Gods-damn right," Toph proclaims. "But, yeah, turns out that old lady's a waterbender, and a pretty decent one, too. So, after they did all of the official stuff with the prisoners who want to go back, we ate lunch and then Hama offered to take Katara out and teach her some advanced techniques, stuff they don't really teach in school. Suki thought that sounded super cool, so she went along."

"And why aren't you with them?" Sokka asks.

"And do what, exactly? Listen to them narrate what they're doing?" Toph scoffs. "Yeah, fuck that. Katara was going to come tell you what she was doing, but I volunteered instead. Which reminds me." She flattens her hand, puts it to her lips, and blows me a kiss. "That's for you, Sparky, and is the absolute most I'm willing to do."

I reach up, catch the kiss in the air, and stick it in my pocket. Sokka rolls his eyes. "By the gods, man, really?"

"Blow me." I turn back to Toph. "Anything else?"

"Besides my stomach turning at the fact that you actually did what Sugar Queen said you'd do? She said to use your imagination for the rest."

I close my eyes. "I can do that." I take a moment to ponder, then open them again. "So, Suki is, in fact, with Katara and Hama?"

Toph nods. "Yup. And Suki totally has that dagger she's taken to carrying around with her, so everything should be alright."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Alright then. Still…"

Toph makes a bit of a face. "Yeah…I know what you mean."

Aang groans. "Can you guys just, you know, believe the best in someone for once?"

"Because that's done so well for us thus far," Sokka points out.

Aang starts to look like he's going to say something, then thinks better of it, settling for muttering, "Alright, _point_. That doesn't mean I don't have one, too, though."

Toph reaches over and pinches Aang's cheek. "You always have some kind of fuck-tarded point, Twinkletoes. That's why we love you so much."

Aang brushes her hand away. "Ahh, bite me."

Toph laughs. "I think the Avatar has officially spent too much time around us." She turns to me. "So, Sparky, what do I get to do?"

I ponder. "Actually, if you can stand a little more time listening to people talk, I think we could use your little truth-sense thing."

Toph's face brightens like the rising sun. "You mean, I get to do something other than be bored? Fuck yeah! Can I smoke?"

"I don't see why not."

"_Fuck yeah!_"

Which, sure, isn't the best attitude to approach a murder investigation, but still, it's Toph. What was I going to do? Correct her? I was too busy to correct her, anyways. I was too busy with another sensation, something I couldn't ignore, will never be able to ignore, that will always set me on edge and make my teeth grind.

_Sometime in the past few minutes, my scar had begun to ache._

* * *

Holy shit, guys, that's a long one. Sorry about that! I didn't realize it was that long until I highlighted the fucker! I was going to put Muto's report in there, and set up the next chapter, but then I realized that I really needed to break this shit up before one of you completely lost your patience with me, and besides, it was better for the pacing.

Speaking of pacing, the whole reason there's that light moment at the end there (or kind of light, at least; it's never a good sign when Zuko's scar starts to act up) is because I'm shooting off my _mystery thriller wad_ here. I'm a big fan of solid mystery novels, and I'm taking my opportunity to write a little one here, and in every mystery story, no matter how tightly paced, there's always some random moment of down time, a _calm before the storm_, if you will. Plus, I needed everybody to check it before I head for the climax.

Fun Author Fact: Old Man Takeda is basically my step-dad, only, if anything, Takeda is a toned down version. My step-dad really is just a complete and utter raging asshole, so, if Takeda seems unbelievable, trust me, he's very real to me.

In the next chapter, Muto finally makes his report, and Zuko takes a force out to the old camp, where he finds some disturbing answers. Stay tuned!


	58. Chapter 58

58. BY AROUND FOUR, ALL OF THE PATROLS ARE BACK, AND BY THE TIME WE'RE ALL KNEELING DOWN FOR DINNER, MUTO IS READY TO MAKE HIS REPORT. Katara and Suki have rejoined us by now, and both of them are in extremely high spirits. It's good, because an afternoon of dealing with bereaved families has managed to depress even Toph. Katara has obviously had a wonderful day, full of helping people and learning things. She practically talks me ear off, telling me everything she's learned about Hama and everything she's learned _from_ Hama. The techniques she tries to explain are complex, to say the least, and a little hard for me to wrap my mind around, but I can definitely see why they aren't typically taught in school. They're definitely pure combat techniques, such as how to quickly and efficiently gather the water from plants to use in offensive bending. It's definitely not the kind of thing that most masters would admit to knowing, or would even have occasion to know.

Which begs the question, _How does Hama know?_ I want to ask, to delve into this, but one look at the sparkle in Katara's eyes lays my mind to rest. How can I pop her bubble? More than that, how can I think so poorly of someone she obviously admires and respects, a tribal sister, no less? It's lunacy, pure and simple. This war, this never-ending struggle, has obviously warped my mind, both mine and Sokka's (Toph is just warped in general; we should've known something was up when she agreed with us). By the end of dinner, Katara is curled up underneath my shoulder, her hand gripping mine tightly in my lap, almost aglow with the day she's had, and all I can do is kiss her on the forehead and give Sokka a look that says, _I guess we really did lose our minds_. He's listening to Suki describe all the fascinating waterbending stuff she'd seen, and how wonderful Hama is, but he still takes the time to give me a look that says, _I know, right? What a couple of assholes._

The look I give him says, simply, _Word._

Muto's report is fairly straightforward. It's a bit long, of course, because Muto is a good soldier and covers everything and leaves nothing out; there's a reason why I had my uncle draw up an official officer's commission to give him on our return. Despite that, though, the report can still be summed up in one word: _We didn't find a gods-damn thing._

And I mean, absolutely nothing. The countryside is as quiet as a grave, so-to-speak. Nagano really does seem to be the sleepy little village it desperately wants to be, at least on the outside. The patrols found Takeda's illegal still, which they left alone, and the remains of an old camp in a cave, but other than that, nothing. They talked to every farmer and questioned every traveler, and none of them knew anything, either. In short, I had twenty-four men waste a day telling us what we already knew, namely, that this investigation was going absolutely nowhere in a remarkably efficient manner.

Seeing as we had nothing else to do, I told Muto to rest the men and the komodo-rhinos and prepare for an expedition to the old prison camp that night. I also forced him to sit down and eat with us, despite his protests. He spent the entire time doing his best not to make eyes at Suki, which everyone but Sokka found incredibly endearing. Toph tried to get him to tell the story about his days guarding my door back in Shu Jing, but he blushed bright red and mumbled his apologies as he declined to share.

After dinner, we all made our plans for the evening. Sokka, Toph, and I were going to ride out with the men and check out the old prison camp. Aang declared that he was done with this whole business, and that he was tired and that he was going to do his best to go to bed early, which I couldn't blame him for; he had taken the stories of the families very hard. Katara and Suki decided to spend the evening with Shimoda's wife and daughters being, for lack of a better word, _girly_. Katara would've really preferred going to the prison camp with me, but Shimoda's wife had asked for the chance to entertain the woman she kept calling _Fire Lady_ for the evening, and so Katara has decided to go along with it.

"But you're going to tell me everything you learn when we go to bed tonight," she made clear to me, "and you're going to take me out there in the morning. Got it?"

I smiled as I said, "As my lady commands."

She rolled her eyes at that, but seemed to find my promise acceptable.

The sun was sinking beneath the horizon when I led the column out. Toph rode on the back of my komodo-rhino, and Muto rode in a line with Sokka and us. One of the local guides rode ahead of us, leading the way on a rather sedate ostrich-horse. The prison camp really was quite a ways out of the village; it took us upwards of an hour to get there. The sun was almost completely gone by then, but it didn't make much of a difference; there was a full moon that night, and not a single cloud, lighting up the night like a pale white torch.

When we arrived at the camp, the sight put the finishing touches on whatever good feelings we may have been harboring. The place looked ugly and cruel, especially in its abandoned state. Most of the buildings were either complete ruins or almost there, and all that was left of the walls were random posts jutting from the ground like jagged dragon teeth. The light of the moon didn't help; it gave everything a strange, unearthly glow. A cold wind blew; we all felt the need to huddle in our cloaks.

_And my scar ached…_

I quickly had the men light torches and begin searching the place. We joined there. Everywhere we looked, we found evidence of the cruelty of the place. We found an old barracks with rusted chains bolted to the floor, and mound that was obviously a mass grave. Sokka paused there to say a few prayers for his departed brothers and sisters, and we all bowed our heads and joined him. After that, we resumed the search. We poked into every nook and cranny of the place. No stone was left unturned, and every stone had a story, and every story was a black one. By the end of the first hour, my heart was a heavy jagged lump in my stomach. I found myself standing next to Sokka, cigarettes burning in our mouths as we rubbed our arms, trying to keep warm.

"I really don't know how you can stand to be my friend," I say to him, my breath lightly fogging in the air.

He rounds on me, eyes wide. "Why the fuck wouldn't I be your friend?"

I jerk my head at the camp. "Look at this place. My grandfather did this, to _your_ people, and my countrymen helped him do it. How could you ever forgive us?"

He shook his head, obviously amused. "Why the hell would I need to forgive you? Did you do this?"

I sigh. "It feels like I did, sometimes."

He snorts. "Yeah, because you're a good dude who would never do shit like this in a million years, so of course you feel that way sometimes. But you didn't do it, and if anything, you're doing your best to make it right."

I feel my face twist into a grimace. "Yeah, but it can never be made right."

He goes silent for a moment. Silence slides by, punctuated by the grunts and grumbles of the men and Toph stomping around from place to place, occasionally calling out something she thinks she might have found.

"Did I ever tell you about the Fire Nation ship that ran aground near our village back home, about…oh…three years ago?"

I shake my head. "No, you didn't. In fact, I came looking for it, and you all said you'd never seen it."

Sokka looks away. "Yeah…that was a lie. We found it, alright. We attacked it, and we killed everyone on board." He turns back to me. "_Everyone_. Even the ones who tried to surrender. Even the ones who dropped their weapons and begged us to just let them go home, we slit their throats and tossed them into the sea."

"After what my people had done to you, I don't blame you."

He smiles. "You would say that. That's why you're you. But the thing is…that doesn't make it right. Your people may be the aggressors in this war, but they're far from the only people do so horrible, fucked up things. Every side has blood on its hands. The Northern Water Tribe stood and watched for years while the Fire Nation waged vicious war on my people, their brothers and sisters. In the Earth Kingdom, the Dai Li brutalized its own people while guerillas waged a campaign of murder and rape against innocent Fire Nation civilians whose only crime was to shipped to some poorly protected colony. And from what I can see, the only people your forefathers treated worse than us were their own subjects. So…yeah, man, this shit ain't on you."

I smile back. "You sounded a lot like your sister just now."

He snorts. "Yeah, she has all the best lines. I try to leave the inspirational speeches up to her, but I felt you needed this one before bedtime. She's kick my ass if I sent her to you all mopey and shit."

I sock him one in the arm. "You're crazy, man. What would I do without you?"

He ponders for a moment. "You definitely wouldn't be as awesome."

I roll my eyes. "No doubt."

Suddenly, Muto calls from across the camp. Sokka and I stroll over to him, where Toph stands at the center of a ring of torches. She's directing two men, who have uncovered a door and are busy trying to pull it open.

"Found something?" I ask.

Muto nods. "Well, Lady Toph found something, your Grace."

Toph scoffs. "Oh, Muto, we gotta teach you to take more credit." She hooks a finger at him. "He came up to me a few minutes ago and says, _Lady Toph? Is it just me, or is the only place we haven't found in this hellhole a dungeon?_ When I pointed out that the whole place was basically a dungeon, he said, _Even dungeons have dungeons, my lady._" She laughs. "He actually called me _my lady_."

I turn to Muto. "That true?"

Muto nods, smiles. "Well, she _is_ of noble birth…"

I sigh, pat Muto on the back. "Don't worry about it." With a great _crack_, the doors swing open. I form a fireball in my hand, and lean down into the opening. Darkness stretches out before me, an endless pitch black soup that seems to be almost solid, it's so dank and cold. The air that wafts up to us smells foul and stale, with a hint of rot and decay. We all cover our mouths and cough and the taste in our mouths.

Sokka coughs into his hand. "Well, something's down that, that's for damn sure."

I nod. "Indeed." I shift the fireball to my left hand and draw my sword. "Muto, Sokka, with me."

Muto steps forward. "With all due respect, your Grace, might I suggest that you wait for us to check it out before you?"

I smile. "I wouldn't be much of a Fire Lord if I let my boys have all the fun, now would I?"

Muto bows his head. "As you wish, your Grace. Might I at least lead the way?"

Sokka elbows forward, sword drawn. "Hey now, what was that about you guys getting to have all the fun?" He steps down into the gloom, taking a torch from one of the men before heading down. I follow, Muto close behind me, sword drawn.

The smell is even worse down below. It's ice cold, too, and our breath hangs thick in the air. The darkness seems to swallow up the light we bring with us; we can feel it on our skins, in our pores, in our noses, seeping into our eyes. Sparks dance and twirl before my eyes, and I find myself constantly blinking. The stench envelops us. It feels like it has actual body and weight, like a living, breathing presence. I imagine things slithering in unseen corners. My mind calls up the bunker, the cell, my uncle kneeling on the floor, a shaking sword at his throat. I will the image away.

_My scar aches in the cold, pulsing with my heart…_

The air moves around us, and the sound of shifting chains echoes softly in the darkness. My heart beats like a crazed drum in my throat; it's very hard to breathe. The stench is awful. It's like a mixture of every bad thing that ever existed in the history of mankind, all wound up tightly in a ball and shoved up our noses. My skin crawls. I get the uncomfortable feeling that I'll never get it out.

_Sokka finds the first body…_

It's hanging suspended from the ceiling, bound in chains. I move the fireball up and down. He's fairly young, though it's hard to tell. His features are twisted in a way that makes him almost inhuman. The light from our fire makes his face shift and dance. He's covered from head to toe in dried blood, even though there's no mark on him. I turn to Muto.

"Run up and tell our guide to get down here. He'll be able to tell us who this man is."

Muto nods and runs up the stairs, returning a few moments later with our guide, a young man named Takahashi. He goes pale as the moon at the sight before him, and has struggle hard not to retch. He covers his mouth with a fold of his cloak, and, with great effort, leans in close to the man's face. He sighs, mutters a prayer, and turns to me.

"That's him, your Grace, Matsu, the most recent person to disappear."

I nod, face grim.

_My scar aches…_

_ Something's not right…_

_**What is it?!**_

"Muto? Stay with Takahashi, and all of you, look away from my hand." They all do so, and I close my eyes, focus my energy. The ball of fire in my palm nearly triples in size. Steam rises from its edges. I don't tell them to open their eyes. They do it of their own volition, which is good, because I can't speak.

Over twenty bodies are hanging in the dungeon, with more piled in the corners and along the edges. Some are no more than bits of flesh clinging to skeletons, while others are still vaguely human. I can't decide which is worse. Sokka and I walk around the dungeon. They all bear the same marks, though. None of them seem to have struggled, and all of them are dead from what looks like massive blood loss, though none have so much as a scratch on them. When we find the little girl, we both have to look away. My stomach does a somersault, and Sokka makes retching sounds in his mouth.

_And still, that feeling, that something, there, in the corners of my eyes…_

_**WHAT IS IT?!**_

"Who could do this?" I ask no one in particular. My mind reels. I have witnessed and heard tales of many horrors in my life. I think of all the terrors my family has inflicted on the world, all the horrors and the hardships.

_I think of an eighteen-year-old boy, screaming in pain on blood-flecked marble floors…_

And yet, despite that, I can think of nothing as terrible as this. I don't understand it. My mind recoils from the sight. I can't comprehend it. I can't even _process_ it. I want to cry. I want run screaming out of this place. I want to curl up in Katara's lap while her fingers make the ache in my scar go away. I want to lay her down and make love to her like I've never made love to her before.

_And then I want to cry some more…_

I turn to Sokka. He's shaking. He's making some sort of strange sign over his chest, his hands trembling, his eyes wide. He's pale, his skin almost bloodless. I step towards him.

"Sokka?"

He blinks, as if he's just now noticed me. He looks absolutely terrified. "Bloodbending."

I look to the bodies, back to him. "Blood-what?"

He gulps. If anything, saying the word seems to make him even more afraid. "_Bloodbending_. It's…it's something I've only ever heard of, that I…I thought wasn't even real, just a story that older people told to scare kids, you know? But…you know how humans drink water?"

I nod. "Yes…"

He swallows hard. "Well, the theory goes that because we drink so much water, and we sweat and shit, that we must have water in our blood. Makes sense, right? Well, according to legend, some particularly powerful waterbenders can…well…_bend our blood._"

I lean back. _The fuck?_ "Seriously? Is that really possible?"

He nods. "The elders always said it was. I mean, I never knew if I believed them, but they seemed serious enough about it."

I turn back to the bodies. "What do you know about this…_bloodbending_?"

He takes a deep breath. I don't know if it does much good, but his voice doesn't shake as much. "First, that it's forbidden. Like, hardcore forbidden. You can't even use it on your enemies, it's so bad. There's only one death penalty in the Southern Water Tribes, and it's for bloodbending. Even murder just gets you cast adrift at sea. But…bloodbending? It's bad news man. They say that it hurts, like, _hurts real bad_, and that you can use it to torture, and to control people, make them your slaves, and that, if you're strong enough, you can use it to basically…well…_make people bled to death out of their skin._"

I look at the body before me. It's an older man. His legs had rotted away to tatters of skin and decayed bones, but his face remains. He looks about in his…fifties? Sixties? It's hard to tell, but again, he's coated in blood, despite not having any cuts.

"Like this, then?"

Sokka nods. "Yeah, like this."

I grind my teeth. "So, it _is_ one of the former prisoners."

"Yeah," Sokka says, "but which one?"

While we've been talking, Muto has been taking Takahashi around to every corpse, seeing which he can identify and which he can't. Many are beyond recognition, and some Takahashi simply doesn't know, but he does his best. He's starting to recover when he comes to the body hanging before Sokka and I. At that, Takahashi gasps.

"By the gods, it's Akycha!"

Sokka and I round on him. "Come again?" I ask.

Takahashi nods, pointing. "It's Akycha! I'd recognize him anywhere. My father and him were good friends." He gulps, tears brimming in his eyes. "He was a good man. He served me my first beer." He shakes his head. "To think, he came to this. Oh, gods…"

Something, somewhere in my mind, down in the dark place where I'd pushed it, clicks, like a rusted lock finally turning after a long struggle. The sound reverberates through my consciousness, sends shockwaves down in the depths of my very soul. Sokka and I turn to each other in unison. I wonder if I've gone just as pale as he has.

We say it at the same time:

_"Hama."_

Something else clicks, very slowly, but no less painfully. Words escape my lips.

_"By the gods, Katara…_"

_My scar no longer aches…_

_**It burns…**_

* * *

Christ, guys, I'm rambling in these latest chapters. Sorry about that!

Anyways, I'm not going to say much here. This chapter speaks for itself. I will make two comments. One is that, I found it hard to believe that suddenly, the Gaang, because they were so _wonderful and special_, were coming up with all of this new bending, or meeting the people who came up with it. That's silly. You really think that, in centuries, no waterbender ever put two-and-two together and came up with bloodbending? And, more than that, that their societies would not have been absolutely horrified by the implications?

And the other comment is that, yup, I'm leaving you on a cliffhanger tonight. Sweet dreams!

In the next chapter, I resolve the cliffhanger. Stay tuned!


	59. Chapter 59

59. WE RIDE BACK TO TOWN LIKE THE WIND, HEEDLESS OF WHAT MIGHT BE IN OUR WAY. The roads are deserted; the locals have learned to fear the night of the full moon. It surely only takes twenty or so minutes to get back, with the pace we're going, but it feels like eternity. I lose all sense of time; it slips by like sand in a glass, pebble by pebble, grain by grain. When we reach the inn, I order the men to storm it, to tear it apart. I make it clear that if there's one piece of furniture still intact by morning, they'll be hell to pay. Sokka has only one piece of advice:

"Don't hesitate. Don't let her raise her hands. Kill her on sight."

I don't argue the order.

_My scar…_

I leave Muto in charge. Toph, Sokka, and I leap off our mounts and race to Shimoda's home. I carry Toph on my back. There's no time to argue, and she doesn't. None of us speak. My heart feels like a hammer, thumping on the back of my throat. About a half-dozen of my men follow, struggling to keep up. Our swords flicker in the night.

We burst in the front door, practically tearing it off its hinges. I order my men to seal off the house, leave Toph to help them. Sokka and I shove past a confused Shimoda, whose wife screams at the bared steel in our hands. We don't stop to explain or apologize. There's no time.

_No time…_

_ No time…_

_ No time…_

_**Please…**_

We take the stairs two at a time. Our footsteps echo as loudly as our hearts. We reach the door to the guest room. We don't bother to knock, we just kick it in. We rush inside, expecting the worst, too terrified to stop and hope.

Hama and Katara sit by the window, sipping tea. Smiles are dying on their faces. Katara sets down her tea, says, "Is everything alright? Zuko, what's wrong?"

Sokka doesn't bother to explain. His face is twisted into a snarl. Hate and fear burn in his eyes. He growls, _"Demon,"_ in a voice from another world, and in one smooth motion, pulls his boomerang from his back, makes it halfway through the move to throw it, his muscles taut, his stance ready to kill, and then…

_He stops…_

His eyes go wide. His body vibrates with pent-up energy. I try to move a step. I can't. My feet, _my feet won't move…_

_ I can't even look down…_

Katara is standing, her eyes clouded with confusion. She looks from us to Hama, back and forth, her head on a wild swivel. Hama just sits, a cup of tea in one hand, the other hand up, fingers splayed, an almost delicate gesture. She has a satisfied smile on her face. Her eyes sparkle in the candlelight. _Her eyes…_

_ My father's eyes…_

_ My scar burns…_

_ "What the fuck is going on?!"_ Katara's voice is laced with panic; it rattles in her throat. I can't help but look at her, there in the moonlight. She's wearing a simple dress, Water Tribe blue shimmering as it drinks in the moonlight through the open window. It's my favorite of the dresses the notables of Kagoshima presented to her. She hasn't gotten to wear it yet.

_She was wearing it for me…_

"That's an interesting question," Hama says, calmly sipping her tea. Her voice is smooth as silk. Gone is the kindly grandmother, the nice old relative everyone meets and wishes they had. The mask has dropped, tossed away like so much garbage. "It seems," Hama continues, "that you friends fear that I mean to do you harm."

Katara rounds on her. "Why would they think that?" A pause. "_Do you?"_

Hama giggles. _Fucking __**giggles.**_ The sound chills me to my core. "Of course not, my dear. How could I ever hurt a tribal sister?" She turns to Katara, winks. "Wasn't it you yourself who said we have to stick together, no matter what?"

Katara's eyes narrow. She's heard it, too, that _thrum_ at the edges of Hama's voice, like monsters slithering in the dark. Katara's shoulders drop. She steps away from the table. Her fingers begin to twirl. The moisture starts to leak from the room. "What are you doing to them?"

Hama turns back to us. "Oh, I think you know."

Katara shakes her head. "No, I don't."

Hama clucks her tongue. "Oh, but you do. Think about it, back to the stories your _Gran-Gran_ told you late at night, about the one thing she no doubt made you swear, _on the spirits of your ancestors_, never to do."

Katara's eyes fly open, big as dinner plates. "But…no…but…_it's forbidden…_"

Hama stands, setting her tea down as she steps towards Sokka and I. "Oh, so _many_ things are forbidden in this world. In the North, it's forbidden to teach women combat bending, and yet, that old stick in the mud Pakku taught you. In the Fire Nation, disrespect to one's parents is the gravest crime, and yet, here we have this _handsome young man_, raising a banner of rebellion against his own father. In the Earth Kingdom, it's forbidden for a girl to leave home unmarried, and in our lands, it's forbidden for a man and a woman to lie together outside of marriage." Her eyes flash. "And yet, here we all are, because desperate times have a way of making the forbidden…well…_commonplace._" She looks to Katara. "You know all about that, though."

Katara's fingers move faster, her hands starting to rotate on her wrists. I feel hot, dry, _thirsty_. The air feels like parchment on my skin. Katara's eyes almost seem to glow.

"What do you mean?" she asks, voice guarded, wary.

Hama arches an eyebrow. _Surprise? _I don't know. "Well," she says, "it's obvious, really, a brilliant plan. Wish I'd thought of it myself. Seduce the banished prince, hold him up as a beacon of hope to his people, a light in dark times, turn our enemies against each other, and then, at the last moment, snatch that hope away." Hama signs in wistful admiration. "Were I as young and pretty as you, I'd probably try it myself."

Katara grinds her teeth. Cold fury seeps into her face. I've never seen her so angry before. "Is _that_ what you think this is? What I am? _What we are?"_

Hama laughs. "Well, it's okay if you've grown to like the boy, it's only natural. He is such a sweet, _handsome_ boy." She looks to Katara, takes in the look on her face. Hama furrows her brow in confusion. "Wait…you're not saying…you don't _love_ him, do you?"

Silence. Insects sing songs in the night. Somewhere in the distance, I hear the sounds of the inn being torn to pieces, my men shouting and cursing, Aang and Suki's voices, raised in angry confusion, people starting to gather in the streets, Toph's harsh tones, telling everyone to stay back. Blood bubbles in my ears, in my veins. _I can feel my blood._ Even the monster standing before me seems to hold her breath.

Katara closes her eyes. She inhales. She exhales. When she opens her eyes again, they're full of hate and loathing. "It's been you, all this time, taking those people, _those children._"

Hama giggles. "Of course it has. Who did you think it was, some bandit, like that fool of a headman, Shimoda? _Please._ I had exact my revenge somehow. Don't you know what those monsters did to me?"

"But none of these people did _anything_ to you!" Katara spits out each word like she's choking on them.

Hama's eyes flare. Fire crackles in their icy blue depths. _"They stood by and let it happen!"_ Spit flits from her mouth, and her face is red with rage. "_This whole gods-forsaken __**country**__ let it happen! __**They all deserve to pay! ALL OF THEM!**__ The good __**and**__ the bad, __**the good most of all!"**_She's hysterical, madness gleaming out of every pore. _"This whole fucking __**world**__ will pay for what's been done to me, starting __**here!"**_

And just like that, the madness is gone. She reaches up, smooths her hair. A smile creeps back into her face. "I should've known you wouldn't understand. Stand, true, but I should've known. So few of people seem to have the stomach for what needs to be done. Gods know my poor fool of a husband surely didn't." She tilts her head at Sokka and I. "I'm sure they guessed what happened to him by now. That's probably what led them here in such a hurry."

Katara shifts, one foot back, one foot forward, slowly, carefully. "You killed your own _husband?_"

Hama shrugs. "I had to; he was going to turn me in. Said it was for my own good, that he loved me and that he wanted to help me, but I knew better. No doubt he'd been a spy all along. I should've seen it, but I was blinded by his pretty face." She lowers her eyes, an evil glimmer rippling across her face. "_You still haven't answered my question though, dear."_

Katara moves further and further into an attack form. _She's almost there._ "What question?"

Hama giggles. "Do you love him, your royal pet?"

A cold fire enters Katara's eyes. It's terrifyingly similar to the one blazing in Hama's washed-out blue orbs. "I won't answer that question, not here, not like this, _and certainly not for the likes of you."_ With that, she moves. Water appears, as if from thin air, forms into daggers of ice, almost a wall of sparkling points, flying at Hama.

_It flies…_

_ And…_

_**Nothing…**_

Water dribbles harmlessly onto the floor, off the walls, drip from my cloths.

Hama laughs.

_She sounds like my sister…_

"Nice try, sweetheart, though I suppose that _does_ answer my question." She clucks her tongue. "I suppose it's true, that all little girls, no matter what, want to be princesses." She sighs. "It's a nice story, really, but alas, it's not to be, I'm afraid." Her fingers dance. I watch them move. Realization dawns on me like a sudden winter rain. And then the pain starts.

_The pain…_

_ My blood…_

_**My blood is on fire…**_

_My skin burns…_

_ My scar burns…_

_**My blood burns…**_

_Voices…_

_ Voices through the pain…_

_ "Stop it!"_

_ "Make me, dear!"_

_ "Just stop it!"_

_ "Show me you love him! Prove it! You know how to stop me!"_

_ "No! I can't do that! __**I won't!"**_

_ "You can, and you will!"_

_**"NO!"**_

_"You will! Think about all I taught you today! __**It was for a reason!"**_

_I watch Sokka…_

_ He twists and turns on the floor…_

_ His eyes, full of the terror that I feel…_

_ I want to scream…_

_ I must scream…_

_ I'll die of I don't scream…_

_**I can't scream…**_

_** I CAN'T…**_

_"Please…just stop it…don't make me do this…"_

_ Katara…_

_ Begging…_

_ No…_

_ It can't be…_

_**I refuse to believe it…**_

_"Oh, dear, is that pleading? I thought you were better than that…"_

_ A pause, a water drop in an empty pail…_

_**"I am, you heinous bitch."**_

_The pain…_

_ It stopped…_

I ache. Every muscle, every fiber, every hair, _every fucking inch of me._ I Look up. Hama is frozen in place. Her eyes are wide and full of fear. I look to Katara. My neck practically _creaks_ from the strain. I see Katara. Tears roll down her face. Her fingers dance through the air.

_No…_

I move. I reach for my sword. It seems so far away. Every inch brings pain, ache, robs me of my breath. I push through it, through the pain. Hama's body twitches. Her chest doesn't move.

_Time stands still…_

_ We have to end this…_

Sokka moves faster. His boomerang blossoms in Hama's chest. Katara stops, drops her hands, shoulders shaking. I pull myself to my knees, crawl and hobble over to her. Every movement makes me grit my teeth. My head swirls in a sea of pain.

_I have to get to her…_

Hama's last words ring in my ears as I reach Katara. Blood dribbles from Hama's mouth. She smiles a peaceful smile. As Katara falls down into my arms, Hama's voice lashes out like a whip.

"I'm very proud of you, dear heart."

It's a long time before Katara stops crying.

* * *

And that, my friends, is how shit gets real. It always astounded me that, not only did the Fire Nation arrest Hama and let her live, but that they let the Gaang go. Even by the show's often shaky internal logic, that shit just doesn't fly with me. It always left me feeling…well…_off_, somehow. So, in my opinion, I fixed it. I hope you enjoyed the show.

This wasn't just for fun, by the way. The Fire Nation has done some heinous shit in the past hundred years. In a way, the way Zuko and his allies feel about it probably mirrors how many Germans feel about World War Two, in that their feelings are complex and full of shame. But on the other hand, their enemies (including us) often weren't much better. It's hard to assume the moral high ground as the nation that pulled of the Dresden fire bombing, when we incinerated a hundred-thousand-people in a city of not strategic importance for the sole reason of that we could, and also because we wanted to test out the new bombs before we carpeted Japan with them. In a hundred years, it's hard to imagine that any side in the war that's going on in this world is clean. It doesn't take long for good and evil to become blurred in any war, especially one that goes on for that long. In short, everyone has something atone for. Because we're in the Fire Nation, seeing things from Zuko's often conflicted viewpoint, it's hard to remember that the Fire Nation isn't alone in being responsible for horror. I felt that this little side-trip would be important in bringing that back up.

Now, mind you, I'm not excusing the Fire Nation. Fuck no, I'm not. I'm just trying to flesh out the world, put things in their proper context, while also getting my rocks off with a little mystery thriller. Plus, it was interesting to crawl inside Hama's head and see what makes her tick.

Well, that's entirely too long for an author's note, especially when attached to a chapter that more than speaks for itself. In the next chapter, we deal with the aftermath, the Gaang heads back to Kagoshima, and Toph makes a decision. Stay tuned!


	60. Chapter 60

60. WE BURN HAMA AT SUNRISE. The Water Tribesmen handle the _ceremony_, such that it is. They follow their laws to the letter. Hama's head is struck from her body, and the two parts are burned separately. Before the head is burned, every Southerner takes turns spitting on it and making the sign to ward off evil. Some no doubt sympathize with her motivations, but the use of bloodbending has rendered her little better than a demon in the eyes of her people.

We stay for several days longer than we planned. It takes at least that long to clear out the dungeon. Bodies and pieces of bodies are carefully gathered and carried up into the light. Every one of my men volunteers to help. We all pitch in. The people of Nagano are treated to the sight of their future Fire Lord digging graves and covered in dirt and mud. Burials are held as quickly as bodies can be retrieved and identified, while those who can't be identified are laid to rest in a mass grave consecrated at a ceremony attended by the entire village. I lead the assembly in the words.

_Agni preserve…_

_ Agni protect…_

_ Agni defend…_

_ Agni forgive…_

White hot tears burn in my eyes as we walk away. Katara stays very close, wrapped around my arm. She refuses to leave me side.

_Or maybe I'm the one who refuses to leave hers…_

_ It's very hard to tell the difference anymore…_

We leave more numerous than we were when we arrived. In the end, only about a dozen of the former prisoners decide to leave. The rest feel that they owe it to the only home they've known for decades to stay, try to atone for the madness they brought upon their neighbors. I don't try to argue with them. It's a feeling I understand all too well. It's the same feeling that inspires about twenty local boys to come with us, to join my growing army. They are all prime military age, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, every single one a draft dodger. They've spent the prime years of their lives hiding in cellars and empty fields from the press gangs, but they come willingly now, heads high, shoulders back, eyes bright and clear. We all know the truth, down in our very souls.

_It's long past time for this madness to end…_

It's dark and cold when we leave, the sky an endless carpet of dark grey clouds. A light rain falls, hard and cold, and yet, every villager lines our route and presses their heads to the ground as I pass. At the edge of the village, Shimoda and the other elders wait. Katara and I dismount for a moment. We all exchange bows.

"I'm sorry our visit was so unpleasant," I say. "Someday, I will return, and make up for all the things that have gone wrong."

Shimoda just smiles. "You have nothing to apologize for, your majesty. Just make us this promise: Bring this horror to an end. I don't want any more of our children to grow up in a world such as this."

I bow, deeply. "You have my word.

Katara bows. "And mine."

Aang appears, squelching through the mud, bowing, "And mine."

"None of us will rest until it's over," Sokka says, joining us."

"This is our solemn vow," says Suki.

"Word," is Toph's only contribution, but, somehow, it says more than all the rest of us put together. At that, we rise, mount up, and ride away. At the last turn in the road, I pull aside. Shimoda stands just at the edge of my sight. I tap my finger to my brow, and he returns the salute. With that, we ride off into the rain.

With over thirty men walking behind us, we make slow time. It's okay, though; none of us are in any particular hurry. At the end of this road lies duty and many partings and the start of another road that leads to civil war. Who would rush to that? Not any man or woman worthy to stand with the Avatar, that's for sure.

_And certainly not the man who will __**lead**__ that civil war…_

On the first night, we make camp to the side of the road, under a thick canopy of trees. The camp is cold and miserable and wet; it's yet to stop raining. In many ways, it matches out mood. When Katara and I finally finish checking on the men and crawl into our tent, I find myself very happy to be involved with a waterbender who's skilled enough to bend the dampness from the ground before we lay our bedroll down. We smoke a lazy round of cigarettes, not talking, just kind of…_existing_. It's almost too much to think, too hard to contemplate real _thoughts_. Too much has happened. When our cigarettes are finally done, Katara turns on her side and burrows deep into my chest.

"Zuko?"

"Hmm?"

"When we get back to Kagoshima, I want you to clear your schedule for the night. I mean it. No meetings, no briefings, no nosy uncle trying to hook you into a Pai Sho game, _nothing_. It can all wait until morning. Got it?"

I nod, kiss her forehead. "Got it. May I ask why, or am I to just follow orders, my lady?"

She starts tracing her little patterns on my chest. "Because I'm going to have, like, an _epic_ cry, and then I'm going to fuck your brains out, and then I'm going to cry some more."

"Can I be the one to do the _fucking-out-of-brains_ after that round of crying?"

"I don't see why not. I doubt I'll be sleeping much for a while."

"Then I don't see any reason why I should be sleeping, either. Besides…you're not the only one who'll be dodging bad dreams for a while."

"What's all this bullshit about bad dreams?"

I look up, see the source of the voice leaning in through the tent flap, dripping water on our nice, dry dirt. Katara groans. "For fuck's sake, Toph, don't you ever…like…_knock_ or something?"

"Nope. Got a minute?"

"We do now," I grumble.

"Toph nods. "Good. Well, I just wanted to let you know that I'm staying with you guys, after Twinkletoes and Snoozles and Honey Buns leave."

I nod. "Alright."

Toph continues standing, deep in thought. "I just think you guys will need me."

Katara nods. "Of course we will."

"And I like it here."

"It's a nice place, from time-to-time," I say.

"And I like you guys."

"As we love you," Katara says.

"And I'm just not ready to go home yet."

"You're welcome to stay as long as you like," I say.

She nods, flashes us a smile, nods again. "Cool beans. Well, I'll leave you to your fucking."

"We weren't fucking, you perv," Katara says, rolling her eyes."

Toph scoffs. "Why the fuck not? I would. Peace!" And just like that, she's gone. Katara and I do our best to resume our sleep-inducing snuggle, but, alas, Toph's words linger in our ears.

"You know," I say, "Toph makes a valid argument…"

"I believe you're right. Pants off."

"Immediately, my lady."

We dodge the bad dreams, at least for a night.

* * *

For the curious, the procedure for burying Hama is basically stolen from what they used to do to suspected witches back in the day. The idea, if I remember correctly, was that the head was where the soul lived, and if you chopped off the head, the evil soul wouldn't be able to resurrect its body, because its body would be somewhere else. I don't know which culture did this, precisely, or when, and I'm too fucking lazy to look it up, or even check if it's true, but whatever, it's a good image.

It always bothered me that Katara, who's so torn up about the episode with Hama, seems to shake it off pretty quickly. Fuck that noise. Yeah, all involved are going to have some bad dreams from time-to-time, and ghost stories will never be the same for them. I might even visit a few of those bad dreams at some future date.

I'll let you guys debate exactly what's going on in Toph's head when she makes her call. As far as this writer is concerned, I just wasn't ready to stop typing the phrase, _Toph scoffs._ Also, as several of you pointed out, she seems to fit in better here. Plus, she probably figures that Aang's going to have whole _armies_ of earthbenders at his disposal; she can do more good here. Or…whatever. Didn't I say I was going to let you guys hash it out? I can't do _everything_, you know.

In the next chapter, there's a partying, and some farewells, and probably some feels. Stay tuned!

Fun Microsoft Word Fact: It wasn't until today that I noticed that Word doesn't consider _perv_ to be…well…_a word._ Don't worry, I fixed it.


	61. Chapter 61

61. THREE DAYS PASSED IN KAGOSHIMA, AND THEN IT WAS TIME TO SAY GOODBYE. It had been nearly two weeks since we had left for Nagano, and in that time, a lot had happened. Three more provinces had declared for me, and several more were expected to do so any day. There was much to plan, much to do. A new military command structure had to be put in place, a training program had to be set up for new recruits, administration had to be put in place, our territory had to be protected and garrisoned, tax collection had to be resumed (wars cost money, after all), and other sundry items. The most egregious abuses of my father's regime needed to be addressed, and in some way, the process of healing had to be started, without offending the impatient. It was here that Katara truly came into her own. Somehow, people who would have distrusted my every word, seeing only how much I look like my father, believed every syllable that was couched in her soft, firm voice. It wasn't long before even my most conservative advisors were embracing her active role in our new government wholeheartedly.

That was another strange thing, another new addition: I had fucking _advisors_ now. Advisors, councilors, bureaucrat. It boggled my mind. It was only there, in Kagoshima, that the reality of my new rank in life really began to sink in. Before, I had felt like a boy playing dress-up, but now, it really, truly hit me:

_I was the gods-damn Fire Lord now…_

I couldn't help but wonder what my father thought of that, or my sister, for that matter. It wasn't a particularly pleasant topic to ponder, but Katara and I still lingered on it, late into the night. It was better than dwelling on the coming parting of the ways.

We tried to have a nice, quiet going-away part that last night, a little celebration of how far we had come, how much we had accomplished. It was to be just the six of us, kneeling around the table in Katara and mine's private dining room (because we had that now), with simple food and merely a bottle or two of wine. Alas, everyone forgot to inform Toph of this plan, which was why she burst in on the sedate little gathering with several guards in tow, all loaded down with booze. An awkward pause followed, while we all wondered what, exactly, we should do, while the guards beat a hasty retreat, trying hard to contain their snickering. I mean, sure, booze sounded just _great_, but the sheer amount Toph had brought looked like enough to kill an army of Takedas. Were we supposed to actually attempt to drink _all of it?_ Was this some kind of bizarre assassination attempt? Had Toph been drinking cactus juice? Was she making one last play to get in Suki's pants? _What were we supposed to do with all this fucking booze?!_

Oddly enough, it was Aang who broke the deadlock. Without a word, he stood, walked over, picked up a bottle, cracked it open, and took an enormous gulp. It almost killed him, sure, but it was still rather inspiring to see. Once that line had been crossed, there was really nothing to do but dig in. Within an hour, we were all reeling and staggering about. The smoke hung thick and heavy in the air, as did the bullshit and the memories. Caution was thrown aside like so much trash, alongside such petty things as _logic_ and _reason_. Things started to get…well…_blurry_. I have a distinct memory of Sokka getting up on the table and spouting out haikus that he supposedly made up on the spot, but that's can't be right…_can it?_ Some idiot procures a tsungi horn, and before I know it, I'm playing the fucking thing like it's going out of style, all while, to my shock, Katara actually seems to _swoon_. Aang seems to have lost his fucking mind, laughing like a loon and swearing like a sailor. Suki humiliates us all at arm-wrestling, with only Toph being able to put up much of a fight.

It was, in short, _**fucking glorious**_. It is, I think, the most fun I've ever had.

_Even the sad parts…_

I blame Suki for the first burst of tears. She proclaims that it's time for a joke contest, and we start telling every stupid joke we can think of. We soon exhaust our silly puns and stupid plays-on-words, and before we know it, Toph is up on the table, reciting every single dirty joke she's learned since she joined our crew. She's halfway through one of Lobsang's favorites when, out of nowhere, she bursts into tears. She crumples up on the table, and we pull her down into our arms. We all sit in a circle, a drunken, sobbing dog pile, arms tight around each other, blubbering like fools. I don't know how long it lasts, only that, somehow, we start making teary-eyed toasts, over and over, to the memory of Lobsang.

The toasts bring us out of the sad moment. We start toasting Lobsang, sure, but next thing I know, we're toasting all of the people we've met in our travels, _every single goddamn one_, even some asshole Aang only calls _The Cabbage Guy_, a reference none of us understand but all of us cheer and drink to. When we run out of people to toast, we start toasting each other, and then we start toasting each other's body parts, and somehow, Katara and I are toasting each other's _unmentionables_ and fucking _somehow_ everyone seems to be cool with it.

I blame Aang for the second sad moment. Suki decides that it's just _too damn hot_, and that we should _get the fuck outside or whatever_, and we all decide that's a _brilliant fucking idea_. We burst out of the room, running along the corridors, forcing drinks on my guards, who seem to be enjoying the show far too much. We lurch out into the rear garden of the palace, and start frolicking through the grass. Our shoes have gone…well…_somewhere_, and then Katara notices that the stars are beautiful tonight _and wouldn't it be nice, babe, if we could…umm…go hang out up on the roof, __**alone**__?_ I'm completely on board, but sadly, Aang blows right past the _alone_ part of the statement and starts gleefully flying us up to the roof. That's how we ended up passing a final bottle around, watching the stars glimmer up in the sky. The moon is bright and huge, hanging like a melon in the night, and we start toasting it. It's beautiful, it's gorgeous. Suki wonders if we'll be able to do this, when I re-take Miyako, when this is all over. That's what really starts it, that phrase.

_When this is all over…_

All of a sudden, we're a blubbering mess again. The full weight of our separation comes crashing down on us, and we a huge, weeping, hysterical mess, all entwined with each other. How we didn't all manage to fall off the edge of the roof to our deaths, I'll never know, though what I do know is that, somehow, we wouldn't have minded.

_At least we would've been together…_

At some point, I just completely…well…_lose it._ I'm crying like a baby, somehow managing to hug them all. Words spill out of my mouth in a drunken torrent. I talk about how much I love them, how much they mean to me, _how I never had a friend before, and now I have five of the best friends in the whole gods-damn world and __**I fucking love you guys**_, and to my shock, they're blubbering right back, and then Katara and I are kissing each other like crazy and somehow her and I are back in our room and we're alone and I don't know how we got there and I don't care and I don't even know if we closed the fucking door behind us and _we don't care_.

How we didn't wake the whole damn palace that night, I'll never know.

In the morning, our tears are dried, but that's probably due to our massive fucking hangovers. Seriously, I've never been so hungover in my _life_, and I spent three years as a banished prince adrift with the crazed sailors my uncle managed to convince to sail on a rust bucket of rust. I don't know how Katara and I manage to get dressed, only that it takes the both of us cooperating together and that it takes far longer than it should.

We opt for a small parting, outside of the city. We all fly out on Appa; Katara, Toph, and I will be picked up after they leave. We don't say anything on the ride out, just close our eyes and listen to the wind, feel the world brushing past our faces.

_We don't want the ride to ever end…_

Everyone puts on a brave face when the time comes. There are no bows, no courtly gestures. No, there are fierce embraces, and sloppy kisses on cheeks, and furious pats on the back.

"You're the brother I never had," Sokka says to me, sniffling.

"You have no idea how much it means for you to say that to me," I say, wiping my eyes.

"I'm glad you finally became the man we all know you could be," Suki says.

"I'm glad you had that kind of faith in me," I reply.

"I'll never be able to repay you for what you've taught me," Aang says.

"And I'll never be able to repay you for the hope you've given me," I tell him. "And don't forget," I say, wagging my finger, "we meet on Ember Island in six months' time, alright? We'll have some planning to do, not to mention the catching up." He smiles, promising to remember. We embrace, the Avatar and me. I can't help but think about how unlikely this would seem, only a year-and-a-half ago. What would I have said, if someone had told me this was in my future?

_I probably would've been very sad…_

_ All I ever wanted were friends…_

The goodbyes are just as clingy and mopey for Katara and Toph. Everyone seems to want to ruffle Toph's hair one final time, and Katara and Sokka can't stop hugging each other. They make all kinds of promises, and I'm surprised Sokka doesn't have to write down everything Katara tells him to tell their father. I'm watching, smiling, basking in the reflected glow of _true family_, when out of nowhere, Sokka reaches over and pulls me into the hug.

"You're a part of our family now," he says, doing nothing to hide his tears, "and don't you _ever_ try and fucking forget it."

I smile. "I know."

At the end of the hug, Sokka puts Katara's hand in mine, pats them, and smiles as he turns and hops into Appa. Aang takes the air bison very slowly up into the air, waving all the while. We watch them go, waving back. We don't stop until they disappear over the horizon, seemingly swallowed by the rising sun.

The three of us stand there for a long time, watching the clouds drift slowly across the sky, arms around each other, barely even noticing when Muto rides up with the escort to take us back to Kagoshima. When we finally see Muto, we pull him up onto the hill with us, and make him watch the clouds go by.

We hold that moment with us, all through the long nights to come.

* * *

Holy fucking _shit_, guys, that was some hardcore feels. I'm not really going to add anything else. I have to go have a beer now. *sniff* Sorry, it seems like it's kind of dusty in here all of a sudden…

For the record, yes, there is a tease of an adaptation of the Ember Island episode snuck in among all those feels, only better, because I give you nothing but the best.

Or, at least, try to.

In the next chapter, the civil war begins in earnest. Stay tuned!

Another Fun Word Fact: Apparently, Microsoft Word didn't think _hungover_ was real, either, though _hangover_ was fine. The fuck?


	62. Chapter 62

62. IT'S A GOOD MONTH BEFORE MY FATHER REALLY BEGINS TO RESPOND. Even then, he still doesn't seem to take the threat I pose seriously. His biggest move is to order all loyal troops and citizens to withdraw behind the Jang Hui, forcing a decision that would have been better for him to leave unstated. I wonder if he's surprised by how many choose me. Somehow, I doubt he notices.

The end result, though, is that, by the New Year, the South is mine, from Kagoshima to Sapporo, the famous _City of the Fire Fountains_. I spend much of that time on campaign, marching from place-to-place. There's not much fighting, outside the occasional spat with loyalist leftovers and the periodic bandit hunt. That's the biggest task, really, restoring law and order. For much of his rule, my father left the countryside to wither and rot. True recovery will take at least a generation, if not more, but in the short term, I lead my armies out into the country and make the roads safe to travel again. Harsh justice, sadly, is the order of the day; my armies leave more than a few outlaws swinging from trees in their wake.

As winter sets in, the fighting intensifies. I order Fujita to take the string of islands that jut out towards the Earth Kingdom. They're important pieces of real estate, and my father fights hard for them. It takes most of about six weeks or so to secure them all and chase off my father's fleets. Even then, much of the success is due to the fact that Kuupik and his men have decided to stay and join the fight; as it turns out, having a few waterbenders on hand is a great help when taking an island.

The worst fighting develops along the Jang Hui, which is now effectively the border between my father's realm and mine. The locals make no bones about which side they prefer, and my father's troops brutalize them accordingly. There are constant raids, expeditions into my lands whose sole purpose is destruction. They strike hard and fast, and when my men find them, the battles are vicious and short. The results are often as awe-inspiring as they are terrifying; firebender fights firebender, fields rent with a hundred private Agni Kais all at once.

As gratifying as it is to hunt these raiders down and send them crawling back across the river, they're a frustrating distraction. The plan is to force the river and push to the isthmus at the start of February, and before that can happen, there is recruiting, training, and preparation to do. Supplies have to be gathered, and the South has to be secured and garrisoned. Chasing down pointless raids is only a waste of time and resources, which is no doubt my father's intention. We need breathing space, and we need it yesterday.

Which, naturally, is where Toph comes in.

I attach her to a flying column of about a thousand men, nominally under Muto's command. Though he's now a major, Muto seems perfectly at peace with the reality that he will mostly be taking orders from a recently-turned sixteen-year-old (for the record, her party came perilously close to destroying the city hall of Fukuoka). None of the men mind; that's the kind of respect she's gained in her time in my country. For the curious, the _order issuing process_ goes a lot like this:

"Hey, Toph?"

"Yeah?"

"These raids are a pain. Mind heading over to the Jang Hui and fucking up some bridges for me?"

"Why are you even asking? That sounds fucking _awesome_. Wait…this isn't just you guys' way of putting a stop to me constantly busting in on your naked time, right?"

"Well, that's not the _whole_ reason, but it doesn't hurt," Katara says, because of _course_ she's there. Where else would she be?

"There are, in fact, actual, legitimate reasons, Toph," I point out.

Toph scoffs. "Whatevs. Be back in a few." And with that, she's off.

The mission, of course, is a resounding success. Within three weeks, Toph had wrecked every bridge and destroyed every ford along the entire river, and we had our breathing space. So efficient was she, in fact, that my father's troops began destroying bridges themselves, in the hopes that their methods would be less thorough. My boys, naturally, end up having the time of their lives, and before long, the following marching son is spreading like wildfire through my armies:

_I don't know what you've been told,  
Toph Bei Fong is made of gold!  
Hide you daughters, hide your wives,  
'Cause Toph Bei Fong is coming tonight!_

_ I don't know what you have heard,  
Toph Bei Fong is real absurd!  
Tell her, though, and you'll lose your head,  
Though it's not like you were using it anyways!_

_ The reason Toph is made of gold,  
Is because she took it all from me!  
I really don't know how it could be,  
That a little girl cheats better than me!_

_ I used to have a lovely girl,  
Until Toph Bei Fong walked off with her!  
I really have only myself to blame,  
'Cause Toph Bei Fong still cheats better than me!_

It continues on in that vein for some time, for as long as the men care to sing it. It gets progressively more obscene from there, too, especially when Toph's around; her imagination, I'm beginning to suspect, is virtually limitless. She loves the song, of course, and will belt out the most risqué stanzas at the least provocation, regardless of the appropriateness of the situation. So far, thankfully, no one's been terribly offended; few attend what passes for _my court_ without being warned of the foul-mouthed earthbender who lurks in our midst.

And still, the war grinds on. Our strength gathers, and with each passing day, my little rebellion looks less like some forlorn hope and more like a legitimate government. I toss out the idea of having _cannon fodder_, and put Master Piandao in charge of a massive training program whose goal is to make the term _elite_ obsolete in my army. Men who've dodged the draft pour out of the woodwork, and before long are marching under my banner. The royal crest on a field of blue soon flies from every flagpole and government building. Fujita and Kuupik share joint command of my fleet, and prove more than capable of holding their own at sea. My armies, of course, are led by my uncle. The change that has come over him is remarkable. In private, sure, he's still his jolly, tea-drinking self. But then we go into the field, and he dons his helm and his army, and with a shock, I finally realize why he is called _The Dragon of the West._

And where is Katara through all of this? By my side, of course, as I am by hers. We rarely leave each other. We sleep together, we eat together, we go on campaign together. There's rarely a meeting or briefing where she's not kneeling next to me. By the New Year, she's so firm in her position that we give up trying to explain that she's not the Fire Lady. It never stopped people treating her like that, anyways, so why bother? Besides, it seems a natural fit, more natural than any of us could have expected, almost two years before.

It's not a difficult fit, either. She's become wildly popular. The troops and the people cheer both our names with equal enthusiasm. She earns it, too. I can't stress enough how active and involved she is, in everything. She is constantly looking to the needs of those who are hurt or suffering; I have yet to see an orphan or street urchin escape her notice without some coins, some food, or both. On her own initiative, she makes contact with some Air Nomads, and through them, smuggles in a large force of Northern Water Tribe healers to send out with the armies. She charms nobleman and noblewoman alike, and before I know it, Water Tribe hairstyles and fashions are spreading through all of the social classes. Hell, sometimes I can't help but wonder how much of my popularity is due to my own efforts, or just her reflected glory. Not that I mind, though; I'd be lying if I didn't admit to occasionally pawning a social function off on her.

It's not unfair, though; I pay her back in _full_.

And thus, rebellion becomes civil war, the first civil war in my Homeland in over two centuries. In many ways, it's long overdue, but that doesn't make it any easier. My Homeland fights, it bleeds, it dies, it rises again. We press ever onward. We can't stop. We won't stop. Father will turn on son, brother will raises arms against brother, cousins will find each other across the battlefield, and yet, we do not falter, and we do not look back. We won't. We can't.

_It's the only way the madness will ever end…_

* * *

Hey guys! I'm back! So, yeah, you were supposed to get this shit, like, around noon. I swear, you were. I have a good…three or four chapters of good stuff for you today, and my plan was to post it all up by one or so. Alas, I woke up a little hungover this morning, which left me with post-boozing listlessness for a while, then I got sucked into TVTropes (where one of you guys should _totally_ open up a page for me or something, because that would rock), then I found myself re-reading parts of this story, and then…

Well, point is, I'm running behind today. _**Sorry!**_ I really am. I'm a terrible person, I know. Thus, I will now make it up to you with some good shit!

A little about this chapter: It serves several purposes. One is to set a scene for the next act of the story, that being the waging of an actual, full-on civil war. The second purpose was that we needed some good ole' fashioned exposition, and it's best to get that crap out of the way before it can sneak up and bog down the action. The third purpose was for me to make clear just how active and involved I always imagine Katara being. Many fics fall into the same trap that the show did, of creating this strong, forceful girl/young woman, then tossing her into a relationship where all she does is gush and be girly and jealous (I'm looking at _you_, ATLA sequel comics...). But with me? Fuck that noise. Katara is fucking _Katara_. She's going to get involved and do shit. Plus, it's going to allow me to circumvent the FanFiction trope of _how will the Fire Nation ever accept Katara as Fire Lady __**oh god the angst!**_ Blergh. I hate angst.

The final and biggest reason for this slightly rambly chapter, though, was because I came up with the idea for the _Toph Song_ while I was in the shower yesterday morning, and spend most of the rest of the morning figuring out how to work it into my story. I've actually been going around humming it all weekend.

In the next chapter, Zuko plays Pai Sho with his uncle, and they have a bit of a heart-to-heart, all while Iroh does what he does best: Tweak Zuko. Stay tuned!


	63. Chapter 63

63. ONE DAY, IN THE CITY OF HAKODATE, IN THE CENTER OF OUR SIDE OF THE JANG HUI RIVER, MY UNCLE AND I PLAY PAI SHO. It's late in December, and a light snow fall dapples the world outside. I look through the window and see a peaceful land, calm, serene. It's almost heart-breaking in its beauty, like no one had ever even _invented_ such a thing as absurd as _war_.

My uncle and I sit alone, smoking and sipping tea. I'm still terrible at Pai Sho, of course, but I no longer mind. It's become a kind of relaxation technique for me, to sit with my uncle and talk and not even _try_ to win. Katara normally leaves us to our own devices, treating these evenings as our _alone time._ She occupies her time with reading, practicing waterbending, writing in the little diary she's started keeping, that sort of thing. She also often engages in these activities with company. At my uncle's insistence, she has agreed to have two ladies-in-waiting, noblewomen her age named Naoko and Midori. Being Katara, she ignores how such things are _supposed_ to work, and instead converts the girls into fast friends. Tonight, I believe, Toph has joined the group, and is probably helping Katara and Midori in their new hobby of trying to set Naoko and Muto up with each other. Either that, or they're all eating chocolate and listening to Toph sing the latest verses to the _Toph Song_, as it's called. Both options are equally likely, and not even mutually exclusive. Whatever it is, I'm sure they're all having fun, a thought that occasionally makes me chuckle. Once, it would've driven me crazy, the idea that my girlfriend was off having fun and probably not even thinking about me. Fortunately, I turned sixteen and got over it.

"You know, Zuko, you're actually starting to get good at this."

I look up in surprise, watch my uncle puff on his pipe, his brows furrowed in concentration. "No shi-er, really?"

He nods. "Really. I'm actually have to pay attention to our games now. Before long, you'll be beating me, and then, someday, _you_ will be the master."

I laugh. "I wouldn't go _that _far, uncle. I doubt I care enough to ever become a master. I'm just trying to relax and have fun."

"That's exactly it! It's because you no longer _care_ about winning that you actually start to have a chance at winning."

"That…that makes no sense, like…none at all."

"It does if you think about it. You see-"

"_Ugh_. Please don't go all _Zen_ on me. This is supposed to be a _nice_ evening."

"What? An uncle can't dispense advice to his favorite nephew?"

"Only if he dispenses it in a form besides poorly quoted _sutras_. Also, I'm your _only_ nephew."

"You're still my favorite."

"So, by that logic, Azula is your favorite niece, right?"

He strokes his beard. "Huh…well, when you put it like _that_…"

I chuckle. We play a few more turns before I speak again.

"Uncle?"

"Yes, Zuko?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes, you should ask Katara to marry you, make it official. No matter how popular she is, or how accepted she is, or what people treat her as, she needs a proper title. Plus, I'm pretty sure young Toph has already done most of the planning for you."

"Gods…for one thing, I know _that_. All of it. But for another, now's simply not the time."

"And when will that _time_ be?"

"Meh, she'll tell me, none of which changes the fact that that wasn't my _actual_ question."

"Have you at least talked about it, you two?"

"_Uncle._"

He sighs. "_Fine._ Trample on an old man's heart…"

"_**Uncle.**_"

He smiles around his pipe. "And your question was…?"

I light a new cigarette and sip my tea before I answer, mostly to calm myself. _How does he do that?_ "My question is…why is my father doing so little? I mean, he does things, but they're all defensive, reactive. He's made no attempt to seize the initiative. After all, he hasn't even tried to rebuild the bridges that Toph tore down, and he still sends two regiments east for every one he keeps at home." I blow out a long stream of smoke before I move another piece. "It just…it doesn't make any sense. Katara and I have talked it over so many times, over and over again, and even with the two of our heads put together, we can't figure it out."

My uncle contemplates the board for a long time before he answers.

"Honestly, Zuko, I don't know. I gave up trying to comprehend my brother a long time ago. There's a madness inside him, something bent and broken, that prevents him from seeing the world in any way other than his own twisted vision."

"Was grandfather like that?"

He shakes his head. "No, he was not. Don't mistake me, my father was a hard man, hard and ruthless, but he was never cruel for cruelty's sake, nor would he have allowed the nation to reach the point where his banished son could raise a rebellion against him."

"Would he have banished me at all?"

"For speaking your mind in council? Of course not. It he had, I wouldn't have made it past my nineteenth birthday. He never liked being argued with, but even he would've been able to see that that was an excellent way to get overthrown."

"But…didn't he order my death?"

My uncle sighs. "He did, but you were never in danger. It was only a test, an attempt to teach my brother humility. You would've been secretly taken from you bed that night before harm could come to you."

I take a moment to process this information. In that moment, everything that I thought I knew about my family is called into question. For years, I've been led to believe that there was an evil running through the heart of my family, and I'd spent more nights than I care to admit to anyone but Katara lying awake, terrified that this evil exists within me. But…what if…

_What if the evil was just my father all along…?_

"Did he do it to you?"

"He did. I told him that I'd kill him, first. He had me officially crowned as his heir the next day." He sighs. "He was a bully, Zuko, never forget that, and no bully likes being stood up to. It frightens them, reminds them of how little power they actually have."

I look down. "I always thought my father was just a bully, but…he's not, is he?"

My uncle frowns. "No, Zuko, he's not. He's a madman, plain and simple, which is why we never truly understand his actions. It's the same with Azula. Even if we could look into their very minds, see the world through their eyes, we wouldn't be able to comprehend what we saw. It would be a world that would only make sense to people like themselves."

I nod, thinking. Smoke curls from my nostrils. "What would your guess be, though? About my father's lack of action, if you had to make one."

"My _guess?_ Well…the most sensible thing I can come up with is that neither your father nor your sister can bring themselves to admit to being wrong. You were banished for weakness and cowardice, while your sister's whole claim to the succession rests on her contention that you are unfit to rule. To treat you as a legitimate threat now…"

"Would be to admit to being wrong, and their pride and arrogance won't allow them to do that." I nod. "It makes sense, in a strange, fu-er, _messed up_ sort of way."

My uncle sips his tea. "Yes, that would be my best attempt at an explanation. It's either that, or they're just crazy. Dealer's choice. Also, your move."

"Ah! Right. Let's see here…"

"So, for the first child, I was thinking, you should pick a Fire Nation name, especially if it's a boy, and then alternate after that…"

"_**UNCLE!**_"

* * *

Ah, Iroh, we love you, you know that? You're just, like, the uncle we either wish we had, or are thankful that we have. Seriously, dude, you were ridiculously fun to write. There aren't many characters out there that allow you to write _Crazy Old Fart_ and _Crouching Genius, Hidden Badass_ all at once. So yeah, this was fun. I also liked the idea of showing Iroh's position in Zuko's government. He heads the armies, but he'd also pretty much be the chief advisor, though generally in a rather informal way, which gives him the chance to tweak his nephew from time-to-time.

For the record, if you insist on knowing what Katara was doing, imagine her and her girlfriends off somewhere passing the Bechdel Test. That's how I like to see it, since writing from Zuko's viewpoint doesn't often give me the opportunity to pass that standard.

I also wanted to take a look at that well-known bit about Azulon ordering Ozai to kill his son. Azulon was always presented as being nobody's fool, so I doubt he'd really have the probable future Fire Lord murdered to make a point. There was actually a Japanese warlord who did this to his son once, mostly to make a point. The kids weren't harmed at all; to kill one's grandchildren is just bad politics, outside of the moral aspect. In my mind, like I said, Azulon was trying to teach his youngest son a lesson, and Ozai used this _lesson_ as a chance into manipulating his wife into killing Azulon for him, so he could seize the throne without having to get his hands dirty. Plus, if his wife got caught, he'd have a guaranteed _get out of jail free_ card. It just seems like the kind of insanely fucked up plan Ozai would come up with.

In the next chapter, Zuko gets to put on a cool outfit and obtains a new piece of headgear. Stay tuned!


	64. Chapter 64

64. I AM CROWNED FOR THE SECOND TIME ON NEW YEAR'S DAY. It is as fine an affair as the circumstances will allow. I fast the day before, and stand a vigil through the night. In the morning, before sunrise, I ritually bathe myself and burn the clothes I wore the night before. In the absence of an _official_ Fire Lady, the Fire Lord-to-be may choose a lady to help him dress. Naturally, I choose Katara. No one seems to find fault with the decision.

There is a tradition, going back centuries, where the Fire Lord-to-be walks out of the back door (so to speak) of the palace, circles the palace three times, before re-entering through the front, all while barefoot. This is to show humility, strength of character, and to symbolize how the Fire Lord only rules at the behest of the people, as they could easily block his path. Naturally, my father ignored this tradition. Just as naturally, I bring it back. I pace around the Governor's Palace in Kagoshima, head bowed, hands in my sleeves, barefoot. The ground has been cleaned and swept, but the act still requires a significant leap of faith; more than one Fire Lord has found a nail during this walk. I make the walk without fear or hesitation. The people watch, silent, as I pass. Our breath hangs heavy in the still winter air. On the third circuit, they begin to bow, pressing their foreheads into the soft white snow. The city is dazzling, even in the dim early morning light. The sun is only a promise of pink on the horizon. It feels very still. As I ascend the steps at the front of the palace, all seem to hold their breath, even me.

_Especially me…_

At the top wait the various lords and nobles and leaders of my cause, all dressed in their finest robes, or glimmering in freshly polished dress uniforms. They stand arrayed around the Lord High Fire Safe himself, his vestment flickering as if on fire. He's a recent adherent to my cause; he defected from Miyako in the middle of the night, after Azula murdered a dozen men seeking sanctuary in a temple, including the priest, and my father made it clear that he would not lift a finger to punish her. The legitimacy his presence brings us is hard to overstate.

At the top of the stairs, my uncle and Toph take turns washing and drying my feet before finally slipping on socks and boots. They both volunteered for the task, and almost came to blows before Katara suggested they both do it. I barely recognize Toph. She is, for lack of a better phrase, _dolled up_, dressed so well that not even the snootiest Earth Kingdom noblewoman would be able to find fault. She has always been cute, but here, she's downright _gorgeous_, an effect not at all ruined when, after she bows and before she takes her place, she mumbles, _"You better fucking appreciate this, __**Sparky**__,"_ in a voice only I can hear. I contain a laugh, but just barely. My composure regained, I turn to face the Lord High Fire Sage…

_And am lost…_

To the man's left stands the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, dressed in a stunning combination of red and blue. She's radiant, the thin smile on her face melting my heart. I want to pick her up and carry her to bed then and there, to cover her in kisses and hold her close and never let her go. Only duty keeps me in my place, duty and the knowledge that to mess up her clothes on such a day would being my reign to an abrupt end. She all but _glows_, there in the half-light. Her lips move. I read every word.

_You have no idea how proud I am of you…_

I look deep into her eyes. My lips don't move, but a blush creeps into her face, and she calmly flicks a tear from her eye, and I know she got the message.

_I wouldn't even be here without you…_

With that, I bow to the assembled party, first to the left, then to the right, and last to the Lord High Fire Sage. I turn on my heel, bow to the rising sun, the shimmering orb just now beginning to bleed over the horizon. At last, I kneel, head high, shoulders back.

_Eyes bright and clear…_

I don't have eyes in the back of my head, but I still know what's happening. I've seen it before, and rehearsed it several times. The Lord High Fire Sage is taking the crown from a pillow presented to him by Katara, a new crown, made from gold donated by the people. He is raising it towards the four points of the compass, commanding west, south, north, and finally east to behold the new Fire Lord. At the east, he pauses, holding the crown over my head. His words ring out across the square, the open space packed to overflowing with humanity.

"Zuko, son of Ozai, are you prepared to take your oath and your crown?"

"I am."

"If any man or woman knows a reason why this man may not be crowned, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

_Silence…_

"Then we shall begin:

"Zuko, son of Ozai, do you solemnly promise and swear to govern the peoples of the Fire Nation and all her territories, never forgetting that it is by their will that you are here today, and will continue to be here tomorrow?"

"I, Zuko, son of Ozai, solemnly promise to do so."

"Zuko, son of Ozai, will you to your utmost power promise to cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?"

"I, Zuko, son of Ozai, will do so."

"Zuko, son of Ozai, will you to the utmost of your power respect the will of the gods, the spirits of your ancestors, and do all you can to maintain the order and balance of the world?"

"I, Zuko, son of Ozai, will do so."

"Do you, Zuko, son of Ozai, promise to do all of this, to protect your people not just from without but from within, and follow the dictates of this oath while remembering to rule with kindness, compassion, mercy, and forgiveness, to temper strength with wisdom, for all of the remaining days of your life?"

"All of this, I, Zuko, son of Ozai, promise to do. The things which I have here before promised, I will perform, and keep. So help me Agni."

The crown is raised to the sun three times, each time all in attendance intoning, "_So help you Agni._" I feel a tug and a pull at my top knot, as the crown is slid into place and secured. The Lord High Fire Sage moves to my side, bows deeply.

"Rise, Fire Lord Zuko."

I rise. As it is supposed to do, the sun breaks over the horizon, the light striking my crown, a fiery star rising from among the depths of humanity. The Lord High Fire Sage turns to the crowd, raises his hands in benediction, and shouts the final words:

"_Behold, Fire Lord Zuko! Long may he reign!"_

The call goes up, three times, like the crash of the sea.

"_Long may he reign!"_

_ "Long may he reign!"_

**"**_**Long may he reign!"**_

I close my eyes, bow my head. I cannot help but smile.

_Can you hear that, father?_

_ I hope you do._

_ I hope you hear it, and know:_

_ I, Zuko, your son, am coming for you._

* * *

And with that, ladies and gentlemen, Zuko is no longer the _future_ Fire Lord. He is, as far as his followers are concerned, _**the**_ legitimate Fire Lord, which means that there's no turning back, for anyone. If you're curious as to why he has to be crowned like this before he can fully move on his father's throne, the simple fact is that his claim has to be made official. The rebels' position will be that they're not the traitors, but rather following the rightful and true Fire Lord, who has even been crowned with all ceremony. It's all about the politics; he can't march into the north, which is still mostly loyal to his father, and expect to be treated as anything but a marauding rebel without a crown resting on his head. The explanation of this could get much more complicated, because I minored in Political Science and get off on this shit, but I won't burden you with it, and instead leave you with a cool little scene.

For those playing the home game, I adapted Zuko's coronation oath from the actual one that Queen Elizabeth II made at her own coronation, because I'm a dork and that's just how I roll.

In the next chapter, Zuko and Katara celebrate his coronation, and Katara gets a title. Stay tuned!


	65. Chapter 65

65. NIGHT HAS FALLEN. A fire crackles in the hearth. All around us, the city still celebrates. They tell me that bells are ringing all through the lands that fly my banner. Whatever the case may be, the bells certainly seem to be ringing here in Kagoshima. It's part of the reason why Katara and I have closed the window. Sweat cools on our skins. Our chest still heave. Katara is nuzzled deep into my chest, too worn to even trace her patterns on my chest.

"So," she says, sounded remarkably like a purring cat, "that's what it's like to be fucked by royalty."

I chuckle. "Was it all you expected it to be?"

She ponders. "I dunno…it was _great_, don't get me wrong, but it sure felt a lot like being fucked by my boyfriend, to be perfectly honest."

"Imagine that! I wonder why?"

"Who knows? It's a mystery." _Pause._ "Zuko?"

"Hmm?"

"Is it true, what Midori said to me the other day, that Fire Ladies don't actually _do_ much, just pop out babies and look pretty?"

"Midori said that?"

"She did. I asked her what a Fire Lady does, and that's how she explained it to me."

"Huh…well, yes, that's the traditional expectation, but there have always been exceptions. It's not like it's a sacred law or anything."

"So…if I one day became Fire Lady, I wouldn't have to stop being…well…_me?_"

I kiss her forehead. "Katara, the only reason people _want_ you to be Fire Lady is because you're…well…_you_. People are ready for change. The old, traditional ways are what brought us here in the first place, after all." I scoot down into the bed, until my eyes are level with hers and I can take her face in my hands. "Half the reason people even believe that I can bring the change I promise is because you are by my side, doing what you do."

She scrunches her nose at me. "One of these days, I'm going to make you give yourself some gods-damn credit."

I laugh and peck her nose. "You first, my lady."

She rolls her eyes and kisses me. "You and your lines." She moves my arms so that they're wrapped tight around her and burrows into me. We drift in silence for a while, the logs popping in the fireplace, faint sounds of revelry drifting in from outside. I'm just started to doze off when Katara whispers, "_Do you think I need a title?"_

I open my eyes. "Do you want one?"

"It would make life a little simpler for Naoko and Midori, I think." She smiles into my chest. "Plus, it might placate your uncle for a bit."

I scoff. "Nothing short of a huge wedding and a dozen babies will ever placate my uncle."

She giggles. "True. Still, I don't want to be Fire Lady just _yet_, at least, not officially, it's just not the right time, here in the middle of a war. That said, it would be nice to have, like, an official position, to have my place and power officially sanctioned in some way. Plus, it would give Toph a new thing to tease me about."

"Heh…true." I ponder the matter. She has a valid point; she really did need some sort of official title, now that I no longer a rival Fire Lord in name only. But what would work? It had to be something as close to Fire Lady as possible, but with less fuss, and that wouldn't carry some kind of hidden pitfall that would prevent her from continuing to be her. It was a thorny issue…only…_not really_. That thought burst into my mind at the same time as the solution. "I've got it."

She smiles. "Oh? I'm all ears."

I put on a (_semi_) serious expression. "You have to promise to hear me out, alright?"

She kisses me. "I _always _hear you out, even when you're wrong."

"Heh…anyways, how does…erm…_Fire Mistress_ sound to you?"

She rolls it around in her mouth. "It sounds…well…_intriguing_. Tell me more."

"Right. Well, as you know, royalty are often subject to arranged marriages."

"Like in everywhere _but_ where I come from, and even then, it can be a bit iffy. Go on."

"Well, most of the time, the two parties end up at least tolerating each other, which is the most anyone really hopes for. Occasionally, they fall in love, like my uncle and his wife, and then, from time-to-time, they end up loathing the very sight of each other."

"Hence, concubines and mistresses and stuff."

"Pretty much. There's generally a _Chief Concubine_, or an official mistress, or something like that, but, every once in a while, a Fire Lord falls in love with someone who's _not_ the Fire Lady, or the Fire Lady turns out to be infertile, or something like that. Point is, there ends up being a need for a Fire Lady who, for whatever reason, can't be called _Fire Lady_."

"So, it's a bit of a legal dodge."

"More or less. Being the king has its advantages, as does being the Fire Mistress. Basically, you'd be an uncrowned Fire Lady, with all the rights and privileges and power that that implies. Heck, if we had kids, and you were still Fire Mistress, they'd be automatically recognized and be in the line of succession."

"Huh…that's actually…_not a bad deal._" She nibbles her lip for a bit, which causes me to swoon for a moment, which was no doubt her intention. "So…I'm the Fire Mistress?"

"If you want to be."

"Just like that?"

"Well, I have to draw up some paperwork, issue a proclamation, there's an official commitment ceremony, _blah blah blah_, but yeah, pretty much." I look her in the eyes. "You still want the job?"

She leans in very close. Her breath is hot on my face. Blood rushes to various dormant parts of my anatomy.

"_I do._"

* * *

It was time for a nice little chapter of Zutara fluff, and being me, I managed to sneak in a plot point. I'm smooth like that, kids. This really would be something to address, though, for these two. Now that Zuko's pretty much the Fire Lord, Katara needs to have some kind of official position to legitimize her own role in the government and in his life, mostly for outside appearances than anything else, and also so that it won't become some kind of sticking point as they move to conquer the rest of the country. Like I said, politics. But also fluff, because these two are cute together and make me smile.

For the curious, I'm known for my sappy lines, which is why Katara's _you and your lines_ is a direct quote of something my girlfriend says to me on a regular basis.

In the next chapter, our intrepid heroes fight their way across the Jang Hui, and Katara encounters the ghosts from the darkest moment of her life. Stay tuned!


	66. Chapter 66

66. EVERYWHERE WE LOOKED, THERE WERE RAVENS. Ravens flocked and wheeled overhead. They clustered on the ground, turned the sky black when riders thundered by. They screamed at the airships lumbering overhead, ducked and darted among the marching columns. The world was a sea of red and black, great scarlet arteries threading through a realm of dust and ash and darkness. We marched in silence, heads down, jaws firm and grim. Our hearts rested down in the pits of our stomachs, heated only by our rage. And through it all, there were the ravens, ravens on the ground, in the air, on the trees, resting on flagpoles bearing limply waving banners, fire emblems hiding on beds of blue. But you can't see the blue; there are too many raves. Ravens here, ravens there, ravens painted in black on the sides of burned out buildings, carved into the chests of corpses, cackling ravens, screeching ravens, screaming ravens, ravens dying by the hundreds as my men vent their rage on the flocks.

And over it all, the words, scrawled on every remaining surface, above shattered city gates and carved into the bodies of crucified men, women, _children_, one letter at a time:

_**HAVING FUN YET, ZU-ZU?!**_

I close my eyes.

_Damn you, Azula…_

Images, flashes in my mind.

_A little girl, a little girl who liked books and piggyback rides and playing with turtle-ducks…_

I force them away, shove them into the depths of my mind, the place where I hide my tears.

_You're going to pay for this, Azula…_

I open my eyes.

_My scar aches…_

We march.

It's been five days since we crossed the Jang Hui through a combination of trickery, guile, and good ole' fashioned brute force. Fighting is vicious in some places, nonexistent in others. General Hattori is forced to fight for the city of Toyama street-by-street, while the garrison of Akita defects to my uncle _en masse._ Airships roar at and around each other in the sky. Ships trade fireballs at sea. On land, armies dance and swerve around and into each other. For the first time in history, Fire Nation tanks are turned on one another. The Jang Hui river valley is alive with the rumble and rumor of war, and everywhere we march, we advance. My father's armies are in headlong retreat for the isthmus, that vital land bridge between North and South, or, at least, _they appear to be._ It's too easy, far too easy. We advance slowly, hoping for nothing, suspecting everything. We march, and everywhere we look, we find my sister's coronation gift to me.

_A land of ravens…_

I think back to the end of summer, the start of fall, the road to Shu Jing. I see five of us, heads down, avoiding wandering eyes and suspicious glances. Our ostrich-horses squelch wearily through the mud, passing through a land devastated by my ancestors' greed and hubris, wrecked by my father's madness. I remember the pain and the sorrow and the guilt we felt, passing through that land of the half-dead, doing our best not to look back. I think back on those days, on those people, and I envy them. Those children didn't know how lucky they were. They only say devastation.

_They were spared the side of desolation…_

It's from the deserters and the defectors that we learn the tale. They cower before us, eyes filled with bitter tears and self-loathing. When word of my coronation reached Miyako, my sister was ordered to the Jang Hui at the head of the most loyal, most vicious units my father had available to him. The names ring out like a litany of my nation's shame, the _Raiders_, the Fire Lord's executioners, the _Northern Raiders_ and the _Earth Raiders_ and the _Death's Head Raiders_ and the name that caused Katara to go pale and take my hand and nearly crush it in hers:

_The Southern Raiders…_

My sister's orders were simple, it seems: Make the people pay, and have some fun while doing it. She went at her task with glee. The men she lead were veterans of countless atrocities, the hardened killers with cold hearts and lifeless eyes that Fire Lords had for a century used to do the things even the most loyal soldier would balk at. After generations of inflicting horror on the world, they turned their skills on their own people with laughter in their hearts. Anyone who protested or tried to stop them was punished, swiftly and brutally. Entire companies were stripped naked and flogged to death. Officers who dared to have a conscious were nailed to crossed and left to die. When General Hattori finally secured Toyama, his prisoners admitted that they only fought because they were too terrified not to. Every man was told that his family would pay for cowardice, and doubly so for treason. They spoke of my sister in the same small voices that others use to speak of demons or curses or monsters hiding under the bed. And everywhere I look, there are the words, like a slap to the face:

_**HAVING FUN YET, ZU-ZU?!**_

I close my eyes.

_My scar aches…_

I open my eyes.

It's been five days. Five days of death and horror for miles around. I am standing in the ruins of the main temple of the city of Aomori. Once, about seven-thousand people lived here. It was a quiet town, they tell me, but a prosperous one, by the standards of the region. Once, things actually grew in the surrounding hills, fields of wheat flashing red and gold in the sunlight. Farmers came to market, children ran laughing through the streets, young girls and young boys flirted with each other behind the backs of their chaperones. In this very temple, people came to services, registered births and honored deaths, lifted their voices to the heavens and asked the gods to save them from the darkness.

_I guess the gods were busy…_

I shake the thought away. It's unhelpful and pointless. I walk through the remains of the temple. The wind that blows through the blackened ruins is chill and cold. Snow falls along with ash, as if the very heavens were on fire. Everywhere is the stench of death and decay. It's in my nostrils, in my skin, _in my very soul._

Soft steps beside me. I know Katara's there, just within reach. I can feel her heat in the half-light. The pain and the despair roll off her in waves. It flickers like a flame in the night. She stands tall and straight. She's imitating me, I know. At least, that's what she tells me. Until then, I thought I was the one imitating _her_. My uncle's words come to me, spots of light in the darkness:

_You draw strength from each other; that's why, together, you can do anything…_

_ Even endure this? _I ask the voice.

_Even endure this_, the voice assures me.

In place of an altar, I find four heads on pikes, arrayed around a fifth one, no doubt the temple's fire sages. Each one has a raven's head crammed in its mouth. I grind my teeth. _Ravens…_

_ The Bird of Death…_

_ The emblem of the Raiders…_

I look down to the ground. There, spattered with dried blood, I find what I'm looking for, the words, my sister's greeting, painted in black.

_**HAVING FUN YET, ZU-ZU?!**_

I sigh, look back to the heads.

"No, Azula, but thanks for asking, I guess."

Katara sniffs, wipes her eyes. "You took the words right out of my mouth."

I look to her. She has her arms wrapped around her stomach, eyes red-rimmed and tired. She wears royal armor, a feminine version of my own. The mark of her title, the Fire Mistress crown, rests firmly in her hair. As I watch, she reaches up, begins fiddling with her mother's necklace. She sees me watching, looks up, tries her best to smile. My heart seizes in my chest. My eyes burn. I look away.

_Too much…_

"Dismiss the guards," I whisper, strangled words barely escaping my throat. Without a word, she turns, waves away the half-dozen men who follow me everywhere. Somehow, they obey without question. I wonder how she does it. I try to shoo them away all the time, but it's never until Katara just _smiles_ at them that they are willing to make themselves scarce. I wait a few moments. My knees shake. My hands, my body, they all tremble. My head throbs with pain.

_My scar aches…_

Katara's hands, soft and light on my shoulders. Katara's arms, sliding around my body. Katara's voice, light and warm in my ears.

_"They're gone. You can let it out now."_

I'm falling. I've fallen. I'm on my knees. My face is buried in her neck. I sob like a baby. Hot, scalding tears pour from my right eye. From my left, comes nothing but pain. I can only cry from one eye. This has never devastated me quiet like it destroys me now. And, over and over again, my words, croaked into her arms.

_"I can't do this…_

_ "I can't take this…_

_ "I can't do this…_

_ "__**This is all my fault…"**_

She doesn't say anything. I can feel her own tears on my brow, dampness on her cheeks as she kisses my forehead. She undoes my topknot, lays my crown on the ground, runs her fingers softly through my hair. I pull myself from her neck, look into her eyes. We take each other's faces in our hands, begin gently wiping the tears away. I sigh and shake my head.

"What an inspiring sight we must make right now."

"Gods, tell me about it. A couple of weepy fucking kids being all…_weepy_." She leans forward, kisses my scar. "Feel any better?"

I frown. "Gods, no. You?"

She sighs. "Ditto." She leans her head forward, rests her brow softly on my chin. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course you can," I whisper into her hair.

"_I can't do this, either…"_

I press my lips to her head. "Then I guess we'll just have to do it together."

She pulls back a little, looks up into my eyes, smiles. "That…that just might work."

I do my best to smile back. Neither of us are capable of much in that department right now. "I know it will."

She reaches up, lays her hand on my scar. "_There's_ my Zuko."

"I'll _always_ be your Zuko."

Her smile grows a little more real then, a little more solid. She rises to her feet, reaches down, snatches the crown from the floor, helps me put it back into place. I stand back up, and we wipe our eyes on more time, dust ourselves off.

"So," she says, as we walk out of that temple of death, "now that we've had our cry, and it's time to be rulers of a nation again, what's next?"

"First," I say, turning to my guards, "you and you, take down those heads and do your best to give them a proper burial."

The two men bow, and one of them says, "The army's fire sages have already set up pyres outside of town. They should be starting funeral rites by now."

"Excellent. Get to it, gentlemen, and thank you." They bow again before entering the temple. I turn back to Katara. "Where was I?"

"The plan of action, I believe."

"Ah, right. Well, I thought I'd make it my mission in life to teach my sister what it means to know pain and fear. How's that sound?"

She smiles. It's real now, real and terrifying, or would be, to anyone who had not walked the streets of Aomori with us that day.

"Any chance we can put a certain Southern Raider on that list?"

I turn to one of my guards. "What say you, Nakamura?"

Nakamura bows to Katara. "Would this be the man who murdered your mother, my lady?"

Katara nods. "It would be."

Nakamura grinds his teeth. "Then it would be our honor to bring you his head. Then, perhaps, my people will have atoned for the wrong that was done to you and yours."

Katara lays a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, that's been done for quite some time. No, you see, now? This?" She looks around at the ruins, closes her eyes, faces the sun as it dances in and out of columns of black smoke.

"_This will be for __**us**__..._"

* * *

Hey guys! I'm back! I really wanted you to get this yesterday, but it just wasn't working. Part of the problem was that I came up with this brilliant plan for how Zuko was going to get his armies over the Jang Hui. However, it kept fucking up the flow of the story, which was really about the cost of the war and just how much Ozai and Azula have gone off their rockers. Zuko and Katara's reaction to that horror, and the horror itself, was what this bit was really about, and cramming in a couple pages of what would essentially have been a history textbook was just too cumbersome. So, I woke up this morning and came up with this. Hope you guys like it.

If you're curious as to how they crossed the Jang Hui, shoot me a PM and I'll tell you all about it. It really is right here in my notes.

Someone in the reviews mentioned how they can't believe that Ozai really isn't doing anything, and the truth is, he's not just sitting on his ass. The problem is, he's basically Hitler. Hitler, right up until the Russians were literally dropping shells in his front yard, refused to believe that the war was lost, and his final act as a leader was to order the absolute destruction of his own country, because he believed that they had failed him. Most Germans balked at the order, but the damage that was done by fanatics like the SS was truly horrific. In my mind, the Royal Guard are basically the SS, and the Raiders are basically like the _Einsatzgruppen_, the units that carried out first few years of the Holocaust, before Hitler and his pals decided that the concentration camps would be more efficient. When it came time to turn these psychopaths on their own people, it turned out that they were just as brutal there as they had been everywhere else. There was actually an infamous case where the regular army withdrew from a village. Thinking that the war was over, the villagers hung out white flags in the hopes that the coming Americans wouldn't hurt them. Unfortunately, the next unit to come by was a unit of the SS. When the Americans showed up, they found every single villager hanging from the lampposts.

So yeah, there's that. Also, we hadn't had some _Crazy Fucking Azula_ in a while. Here you go.

On the changes in our favorite couple's behavior after they stop crying, basically, they're the king and queen. They can't cry in front of the troops. There's a form to follow, and parts to play.

In the next chapter, Iroh and Toph launch a bit of a diversion. Stay tuned!


	67. Chapter 67

67. AS MY UNCLE TELLS IT LATER, TOPH BEI FONG WAS DECIDEDLY UNDERWHELMED BY THE FORTIFICATIONS BEFORE HER. To anyone who doesn't understand Toph, this would seem to be the kind of reaction that only someone at least borderline insane could have, though, admittedly, they wouldn't be all that unjustified in their conclusion.

The land bridge connecting the northern and southern halves of the Fire Nation is, in and of itself, somewhat daunting, even in the best of times. The terrain is rough and mountainous, and any army seeking to pass through had best bring its own supplies, because pretty much nothing grows there. Indeed, just of ordinary people, other than soldiers, there are few. To this, my father's armies had added a large concentration of troops held in place by terror and fear and sheltered behind well-placed and intricate defensive works. To force the lines would require either brute force or naval support. Naval support was out, since my fleets were being kept far away, which left brute force. Alas, brute force would require waging a protracted, siege-like operation, all while hauling all of our supplies from beyond the Jang Hui. The idea, no doubt, was to force me into a campaign that I had no stomach for, all while winding down the clock until whatever my father had planned for the coming of Sozin's Comet could come to pass. To put icing on the cake, it would give Azula more time to taunt me. She had even gone to the trouble of putting out a _welcome banner_ of sorts, using lightning and fire to etch, _**Almost There, Zu-Zu!**_ into the main defensive wall. It was, in short, a remarkably solid, well-thought-out plan.

It was also remarkably stupid, considering that one of the most talented and powerful earthbenders in the world was a good friend of mine.

The problem with fixed fortifications, you see, is that once they're compromised, they're virtually useless. All it takes is one breach, and suddenly, you're fighting an actual battle. It's either that, or fall back to the next line, and hope that _that_ one will withstand assault. At that point, let's face it, if an enemy can breach _one_ line, odds are they can dismantle the others. You really have to hope that your enemy isn't commanded by someone competent, or who thinks fast under stress. In short, you have to hope that your enemy is under the command of the person that my family thinks I am.

So, naturally, I put my uncle in charge. Did I mention that Toph was there, too? Because that's really of vital importance. Take those two, give them a Pai Sho board and plenty of tea, and there's really no wall in the world that stands a chance. Again, as my uncle put it, Toph in particular was unimpressed. In her (quoted) words:

"Man, these assholes really suck ass when it comes to any situation that requires something _other_ than being diabolical motherfuckers, don't they?" At that point, she spat in both of her hands, rubbed them together, winked at a passing nurse, and got to work.

The offensive began during the last week of February. By the time March was in full force, those who opposed us were in full-fledged retreat, for _real_ this time, not in the strategic, _Azula wants to fuck with her brother some more_ sense that they had been before. My uncle would feint at one place, while Toph would go to another and bend the defensive works there into rubble. They systematically reduced all the small, connecting forts and walls, rendering the bigger forts, which were too bit to outright destroy, untenable. At first, even then, the garrisons would be too terrified of my sister to surrender or retreat, so most of those places were invested and by-passed. There were assaults, of course, and some vicious fighting, and my airships had their hands full keeping the skies clear. Still, the operation went incredibly smoothly, to the point that soon, my troops were singing a particularly vicious song called, _Hey, Azula, Who's Having Fun Now?_ It had an obscene derivative, of course, by the name of, _Hey There, Dragon Bitch!_ I forbade that one from being sun in my presence, though. The troops seemed to understand.

Toph, of course, had the time of her life. As my uncle put it, the girl had _far_ too much fun tearing carefully constructed fortifications to shreds. At one point, she even came up with an idea for a post-war career, testing any kind of building's safety against earthbending for cash. My uncle was highly amused.

Now, one may be asking, why did I have to rely on my uncle for this information, and not, say, my own eyes and ears, or Katara's? Well, mostly because we weren't there. Where were we?

Teaching my sister a lesson, of course.

* * *

Something that I always thought interesting was that, despite the fact that she's kicked Zuko's ass in every previous encounter, by the final episodes, Azula respects her brother enough to finally allow for an Agni Kai, and fears him enough to start losing it. Sure, at that point, she had gone around the bend, but the point is that she was clearly intimidated by him during the fight. And her whole reason for finally well and truly losing it is…_Daddy was mean to her?_ Please. If anything, being completely off her rocker should make her _more_ confidant, not less.

Thus, I'm going to have Zuko kick Azula's ass. Plus, this is my way of working in my version of the episode where Katara and Zuko go after Yon Rha. Why not kill two birds with one stone, and have epic fun times during it? The opportunity was too much to pass up.

At some point, I'm totally going to do, like, a one-shot, of Toph and Iroh being cool and suave while fucking up Azula's whole plan. I think that would make for some epic fun times.

And yes, I just confirmed that there will be one-shots and other stories and drabbles once this one is done, which I hope will be sometime in the next week or two.

Quick Aside: Why doesn't Ozai seem to give much of a shit? For that explanation, I'll point you to the whole bit where he tells Azula he's going to name himself _Phoenix King_, and let the ATLA fans see if they can't get a jump on some of the others.

In the next chapter, Katara does some pretty epic waterbending, because of course she does, she's Katara. Stay tuned!


	68. Chapter 68

68. THE THEME OF THE NIGHT WAS SILENCE. I stood on the shore, surrounded by a good thousand hand-picked men. Every last one was a skilled, well-trained firebender, and as many as possible were graduates of Master Piandao's school. Every single one was a veteran, and every single one was an expert komodo-rhino rider. That last was important; mobility was going to be vital.

The night air is tense, thrumming with expectant energy. Nerves crackle and pop in the cool late winter air. Komodo-rhinos grunt and snort and paw at the ground. The men hold them tight; we need to be silent as the grave. Our breath hangs in the air; final cigarettes are smoked and tossed away. The darkness is alive with muffled _clinks_ and _clacks_; every mount is muzzles, and sources of noise, like bridles and sword hilts, are wrapped in cloth. Men pray silently, rubbing icons and talismans. I would join them, but my eyes, like those of many others, are fixed on the sight before me, a small circle, all but one clad in blue, bowing their heads and praying.

I look up at the moon, big and full, hanging so low I almost feel like I can reach up and touch it. Lazy waves lap calmly at the shore. I look around, at the sea before me, turned an almost solid sheet of white by the light of the moon. The water is tranquil and calm, the breeze barely strong enough to even be noticed. My thoughts turn to the isthmus, not terribly far away. That morning, I received two notes. I play them back in my head.

One was from my uncle. It read, _Yesterday, we began our little diversion. Thanks for the tea, good luck, and give that girl a kiss when you land._

The other is from Toph. It's addressed to both Katara and I, and reads, _Fuck that bitch up, and try to save some for me. Be good!_

Katara also got a note from my uncle. She won't share it with me, though. As she makes clear, it's just for her, and besides, it's a surprise.

The circle is breaking. Blue-clad figures move to the shore, adopt identical poses. They stand, dark-skinned, dark blue statues, holding vigil in the night. The only one not clad in blue walks towards me, her blackened armor shimmering in the moonlight. Without saying a word, she comes up to me, wraps her arms around my neck, and kisses me. The kiss is hard, firm, deep, greedy. When she pulls away, we're both a little breathless, and I hope I'm not alone in thinking thoughts that are rather inappropriate for the occasion. We linger for a few moments, face-to-face, my men snickering softly in the darkness.

"So," I whisper, "I guess I know what my uncle's note suggested."

She nods, smiling. "I mean, I was going to do it anyways, but I put two-and-two together and figured I should get in first, before you followed whatever he told you to do."

"Heh…I suppose I still owe you a kiss on the other side?"

"Babe, you _always_ owe me a kiss." She takes a deep breath, as if to compose herself. "So, you ready?"

I nod. "It's now or never."

"Good. Got my ride?"

"_Absolutely._ Oh, wait, you mean the komodo-rhino. Yeah, that, too." I raise my left hand, which holds the reins of a second komodo-rhino, a pair with the one attached to the reins in my right.

She rolls her eyes. "You're ridiculous. I like you." She turns to the young man to my right. "Oh, and Muto?"

Muto clears his throat. "Yes, my lady?"

"Naoko wanted you to have this." Katara puts her hand to her mouth and blows Muto a kiss, before winking at me and waltzing back to the shoreline. To my side, Muto actually _swoons_, while the men around him pat him on the back and make muted catcalls and whistles. I chuckle, deep in my throat, before shaking it off and focusing on the spectacle before me.

As soon as Katara returns to the shore, she looks left, nods, then right, nods again. The others nod back, and then they begin to move. The movements are slow, fluid, contained. They are gathering, not bending. They are harnessing the power of the water, tapping into every drop, making contact with every ripple. As they continue to move, the very air seems to beat with their hearts, move with their hands. The sea begins to ripple and swirl, the milky white effect shattered as the water seems to come…well…_alive._

Suddenly, the movements change. Their arms seem to spin through the air, forming great circles, as if trying to embrace the very night itself. Before our eyes, the sea starts to disappear. A heavy fog gathers, thin at first, then thicker and thicker, more and more concentrated, until it resembles the proverbial _pea soup_. Watching it all, I smile.

_Not every waterbender Katara smuggled in was a healer. I wonder if you've guessed that yet, Azula?_

Up until now, it has been a synchronized dance, each waterbender moving in time with the others, looking to Katara to lead. At some sort of signal that I miss, or see but don't understand, this changes. Half the waterbenders continue working on the fog, but the half in the middle change targets. Their movements become more rigid, more forceful, aimed at the water at their feet. The temperature drops, or seems to. A strange, unearthly crackling fills our ears. There, as we watch, the sea is freezing over, solid and thick. Not the entire sea, just a thick bang, edging steadily out from the shore. As the sheet moves out, the benders move with it, Katara leading the way. They advance, step-by-step, pushing the ice further and further. The other benders move after them, advancing along the sides, maintaining either the ice or the fog. I nod, turn to Muto.

"Muto?"

"Your Grace?"

"Pass the word to remember: Five abreast, and walk your mounts, just like we practiced."

He nods, bows, turns around. The word ripples back through the waiting troops. Muto turns back to the sea, shakes his head in wonder. "Amazing, isn't it, your Grace?"

I smile. "It is, isn't it? Now, let's go." I turn to the men, shout, "If you gentlemen are done lounging about, I say it's time to teach my sister a lesson! Who's with me?"

They give one short, sharp cheer, and fall back into silence. I nod at Muto, and we move out onto the ice. We don't slip or fall; our boots are covered with some strange wrap of fur that Katara says protects against such mishaps, as well as the cold. I'm not sure how it works, but it does; even the coverings for the komodo-rhinos work beautifully. Thus, we move, Muto and I leading a column two-hundred ranks deep, in as complete silence as can be managed, a thousand firebenders, lips sealed, walking across ice through the fog behind a line of waterbenders.

_Yes, Muto, it __**is**__ an amazing sight. The future can be like that, when we will it to be so._

It takes about four hours to cross. As soon as the last file passes a patch of ice, a waterbender waves it back into the sea. As the ice and the fog stabilize, the benders begin working in shifts, twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off. My men, when they get the chance, pat the waterbenders on the back, promising free drinks for life. Sadly, from the perspective of my boys, at least, there are no female benders; these are people from the Northern Water Tribe, after all. Me men find this dumb and silly; they seem to have high expectations after seeing what their Fire Mistress can do.

We march in silence, slow, steady, barely even daring to look down. Any kind of flam is forbidden, on pain of death, and no man is brave enough to even try. I wonder if any of us even _breathe_. When the bridge finally _thumps_ into our destination, none are proud enough to try to hide their relief. We spill out onto this new shore, throwing ourselves down and kissing the ground. Good-natured mockery flies back-and-forth between firebender and waterbender. I push through the mass, grab hold of Katara, and throw my all into the promised kiss. When I'm finished, we're both flushed and rather…well…_distracted_. She pulls back, begins fixing her hair into a tight bun. Her eyes sparkle.

"Any chance we can just pitch camp here for an hour or so?"

I sigh unhappily. "I'm afraid not. Duty calls."

She clucks her tongue, takes a helmet from the pack on her komodo-rhino. "Sad day. Oh well, until next time." She pecks me on the cheek, dons her helm, and mounts up. She looks over at me as I do the same. "Shall we?" she asks.

I nod. "We shall. Muto!"

"Your Grace?"

"Sound the advance!"

A single horn blows, soft and muted in the night. A thousand men thump firsts into chest plates, and with that, we ride, up into the hills and the mountains, while, miles to the south, my sister defends a line that's already been flanked.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the thought.

* * *

See? I told you Katara was going to work some magic. It always saddened me that the show never really explored just what these powers were truly capable of. It's implied that the only real difference between a poor bender and a powerful one was the willingness to practice and perfect one's art, as well as one's innate talent. Well, Katara's been honing her craft for quite some time now. It was time for her to show off.

I also realized that pretty much every bending discipline has gotten a chance to show what it can really do in this fic. For example, Zuko blasted that bunker into smithereens, and Lobsang showed what a determined airbender can do when he puts his mind to it. It was Water's turn to shine. Before this story is done, I'll have to really let Toph show off doing more than digging up a chest, though, truth be told, that was rather impressive, considering the amount of skill, discipline, and finesse that would require.

In the next chapter, Azula finally learns what it is to be mortal. Stay tuned!


	69. Chapter 69

69. WE STRIKE ON THE SECOND SUNRISE AFTER OUR LANDING. We encounter only a few patrols and lone stragglers. From them we find out that my sister is already feeling the need to commit her reserves. A general who advised withdrawal was burned alive in the middle of a war council. She's scrapping up every man she can find and sending them south, heedless of her rear, certain that I'm the one in charge, not my uncle. We take this knowledge into our hearts, and promise to ourselves to make her regret her hubris.

We don't take any prisoners. We can't. We're moving too fast, and secrecy is too important. We try to take solace in the reality that they meet far kinder ends at our hands than they would if they wandered back into Azula's clutches. No, it doesn't make us feel any better, but this is a war, and the sooner it ends, the sooner we can stop compromising our souls.

We don't stop. We ride hard, and we ride fast. If you want sleep, you better hope you can sleep in the saddle. Any man who falls behind, is left behind.

_None do…_

_ I've never been so proud…_

The night before we strike, we open special pouches, tucked away in our bags. Before we left, the contents of these bags were blessed by fire sages. Inside are blood red head bands and pitch black arm bands. The blood red head bands we ritually tie around our heads; these are to symbolize that we will not retreat, that there is no going back, that we will either achieve victory or die in the attempt. Each man kisses the band before a selected comrade ties it. Katara and I do the honors for each other.

The black arm bands come with no ceremony. We merely take them out and tie them on. They mean only one thing.

_No prisoners..._

_ No mercy…_

_**Remember the Jang Hui…**_

My sister has made her headquarters in a deep caldera, a kind of punch bowl in the ground. She has posted no sentries, set up no watch. Her confidence, it appears, is absolute. The camp is calm, quiet, almost _festive_. Men move about, chatting calmly. Here and there, little groups gather to gamble or sing or just shoot the shit. They look up at where the sun will spill over the lip of the caldera and shield their eyes in expectation.

I turn to my men. They look to me. I turn to Katara. She grips her mother's necklace tightly in her fingers. I look to the rising sun. I bow my head. I draw my sword. The black steel flashes in the sun. I raise it high.

_**"For our future!"**_

The men draw their swords.

_**"FOR OUR FUTURE!"**_

We dig our spurs into the flanks of our mounts, and with a great roar, spill over the lip of the caldera and pour from the rising sun.

The surprise is complete and total. Our enemies stare in wide-eyed shock as we pour into the bowl. They scramble for their armor, their weapons, try to take up bending positions, but it's too late.

_Much too late…_

_Swords flash in the early morning light…_

_ Fire roars through the lines…_

_ Men and mounts scream and cry and die in the dust and the dirt…_

_**We're in the camp…**_

_Tents are flattened beneath our hooves…_

_ Men are trampled…_

_ Men in armor shaped like ravens fall to their knees and cry for mercy…_

_ We cut them down…_

_ Death, death all around me…_

_ We scream like banshees…_

_ Like demons in the night…_

_ The bloodlust is in us…_

_ All we can see is red…_

_ They cry for mercy…_

_ We close our eyes…_

_ We see the bodies of children, charred black in fields covered with ravens…_

_ Our enemies die beneath their raven banners…_

_ My sister's words, burned into my brain…_

_**HAVING FUN YET, ZU-ZU?!**_

_No, sister, I'm not…_

_ This is not a game…_

_**IT'S TIME YOU LEARNED THAT…**_

Resistance begins to stiffen, but we press on. We dismount and wade into the confused mass before us. For every one of us who falls, ten of them die or flee. The other wall of the caldera is thick with terrified ravens. We hurl fireballs into their midst. The punch bowl is thick with the smell of blood and fire and burning flesh. The hastily formed line before us bends, it buckles…

_**It breaks…**_

It's all but over now, just a matter of hunting down what remains. We have donned the black armbands; by now, the ravens have noticed. They see their doom in our eyes and turn and try to flee.

_They don't make it far…_

A tug, a tap on my arm. I turn, find Katara before me. Her eyes are wild, mad, almost. I wonder if I look the same. She is shouting, screaming to make herself heard over the roar of the battle. She is pointing. I follow her arm. No, it's not the roar of the battle…

_It's the roar of an airship…_

The ravens flock to the airship, their salvation. They push and they shove and they cut each other down. A line of Royal Guard stands before the airship as it powers up. They wield fire whips with deadly accuracy, driving the ravens back. We dive into the roiling mass, leaving death in our wake. The caldera seems as if it's on fire.

_It is on fire…_

_ We pay it no heed…_

_ We won't be here for long…_

_ Almost there…_

I see her, leaping onto the airship. There she is, so small, so far away. She almost looks like the little girl I still see in my dreams, on nights dark and cold, when I wake up shivering and Katara pulls me close and presses her lips to my scar. Tears burn in my eyes. I turn to my men. I point my blood-drenched sword at the tiny black figure. My men roar in response, a roar more animal than human. We charge. Katara by my side, racing, wielding her element like a finely wrought blade, leaving as much death in her wake as my sword and my fire. We advance together, run together, side-by-side.

_I can almost hear Azula's laughter, all the way down here…_

She's taking off. The detachment of Guardsmen are leaping up onto the ship's platform, clinging for dear life as the ship lifts into the air. The ravens scatter and flee down the other side of the caldera. My men roar up to the lip. I see Azula turn. I see her move.

_Blue…_

_ Crackling blue light, sparkling…_

_ I can almost smell it, all the way down here…_

_ I can see her face…_

_**She's laughing…**_

_** No…**_

_** You don't get to laugh this time…**_

_** THIS IS NOT A FUCKING GAME!**_

The lightning flies down towards us. My men step back in fear. Only I stand firm. I look up, breath in, breath out.

_Inhale, exhale..._

"Any chance you'll step back?" I ask.

Katara laughs. "Not a fucking chance."

_It's here…_

_ I put forward my hand, two fingers…_

_**It's here!**_

_My uncle's words, in my ears…_

_ It's all I can hear…_

_ Let the energy in your own body flow…_

_ Create a pathway…_

_ Down into your stomach…_

_ The sea of chi…_

_ Up and out the other arm…_

_**Not through the heart…**_

I can feel the electricity pulse through me. It crackles and sizzles. Blue rings dance around my arm. I close my eyes.

_Let it flow…_

I can feel it in my gut, in my stomach.

_Not through the heart…_

It's rolling up my other arm.

_Up and out the other arm…_

There's a _boom_, loud and solid as the end of the world. Every hair on my body stands on end. It's hard to breathe. I feel like every single last piece of me is alive, dancing, thrumming with power. My muscles, my very _bones_, ache.

_Only my scar doesn't hurt…_

I look up at the airship. It's too far away now. There's no way we can hit it without risking the fire coming back at us. It's too late.

_Too late…_

And yet, I can't help but smirk.

_Still think this is a game, sister?_

Somehow, I doubt it.

All around me, the world is silent, still. I turn, face my men. I don't find them. I look down. Every single last one of them is on their knees, their heads bowed.

_The battle is over…_

_**We won…**_

Arms, arms tightly wound around me. I embrace her back. She pulls away. She's torn off her helmet. Her hair dances wildly in the wind. There are tears in her eyes.

"Zuko, that was…that was…_that was amazing._"

I shake my head.

"It was more than that. It was justice. _My justice_." I take her hands in mine. Her body shakes. "Are you alright?"

She nods. "I am. I just…thought I lost you for a minute there. I thought you were going to get yourself killed before I could tell you something."

I smile. "Tell me what?"

She shakes her head. "Too late now." She looks to the men. They stare at me with awe in their eyes. Awe, wonder…

_And love…_

_ My scar doesn't ache…_

_ But my heart does…_

_ I hope they know now…_

_**I would do anything for you…**_

"So," Katara says, "what now?"

I look down into the punch bowl. Behind me, ravens fly, fast as the wind, too terrified to look back. Down below, men groan and crawl towards their deaths. I grit my teeth.

"My people have their justice, there below us. I have my justice, flying away into the sky. Now, my lady, it's time for yours."

Her eyes narrow. Her body tenses even as her arm threads its way through mine.

_"Good."_

* * *

You know what else bothered me about the show? We never got to see the lightning re-direction thing. So, now we've seen it. I hope it was suitably awesome. I like the idea that Azula, unable to realize that she's just had her ass kicked, decides to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat by hurling a lightning bolt into the middle of her brother's army. I really wish we could be a fly on the wall when she realizes that he just shrugged it off, and in the process, showed her how small she really is.

Of course, this is Fan Fiction land. Odds are, one day I'll get bored, and go _be_ that fly on the wall.

I also kind of want to be in the skulls of some of Zuko's men. They just won a pretty amazing victory, and then, to cap it all off, saw their chosen Fire Lord take a lightning bolt meant for them, take it and _fucking survive_, all while using a move that no one's ever heard of before. It's not a stretch to imagine that they would be impressed in a way that makes _impressed_ too weak of a word.

In the next chapter, Katara gets her justice. You probably won't get it until sometime on Wednesday, for which I apologize, but my bills have to get paid somehow, you know? Anyways, stay tuned!


	70. Chapter 70

70. TO THEIR CREDIT, THE COMMANDERS OF THE VARIOUS RAIDER REGIMENTS DID THEIR BEST TO STAND AND FIGHT. Every single one is dead or almost dead, down in the bowl of corpses. We keep a few ravens alive, just long enough to identify their commanders. Then we slit the ravens' throats and leave them where they lie.

_When I said __**no prisoners**__, I meant it…_

When we find the commander of the Southern Raiders, there's not much left of him. Half his face is a burned, charred wreck, and he can speak only with great difficulty. He's in an enormous amount of pain, that much is obvious; even the act of taking a gulp of water leaves him gasping for breath. My men pay no heed; they drag and kick him over to where I sit, Katara and I, using chairs from my sister's tent. We've both taken off our headbands, done up our hair. I've put my crown in my topknot, and Katara wears the same hairstyle she had when I first met her. We watch, faces blank, as the half-burned man is tossed down before us. We take him in. I reach over, take Katara's hand in mine. She takes it without looking at me, squeezes it until her knuckles are white.

All around us is activity, a swirl of motion around this sea of calm. A third of my men are securing the area, while another third cleans up the battlefield and a final third chases down the survivors. Their orders are to be back inside of an hour; we won't be staying long. We're going to pause for just enough time to burn our dead (about eighty or so), see to our wounded, and give Katara of the Southern Water Tribes her justice. Then, we move. We have a lot to do.

One of my men tosses a waterskin into the lap of the wretch before us. This is not a kindness, just a matter of necessity, and my man shows it by making sure the waterskin smacks the raven in the face when he tosses it. The raven chugs water greedily, until I wave a hand and the skin is snatched away. The man stares at me from his remaining eye, defiance mixed with fear in equal measures. Katara clears her throat.

"What's your name?"

He glares with his one good eye, speaks in a voice strangled with pain. "I have nothing to say to you, _whore_." The next sound out of his mouth is when one of the men standing behind him hits him hard with the back of a hand. "Speak that way to the Fire Mistress again, and you lose the other eye, dog," my man says, before resuming his calm stance.

The raven sighs, as best as he can, before turning back to us.

"Fine, have it that way. My name is Toru Watanabe, and I am…or, _was_…commander of the Southern Raiders." He looks Katara up and down. "Though I guess you knew that."

Katara nods. "I figured. How long have you commanded the Southern Raiders?"

"Three years, though I've been with them for much longer." He grins; the effect is deeply unsettling, considering his injuries. "In fact, I've been with them long enough to have been to your neck of the woods a few times."

"So, you were there when your unit came for the Yuupik Tribe's last waterbender?"

He attempts to laugh, though all that happens is that he snorts and then doubles over in pain. I notice that he's bleeding from several wounds, including a spear point drive through his chest. He wheezes for a few moments, before looking up and nodding, tears of pain in his remaining eye.

"Yeah, I was there, for all the good it did us."

Katara's eyes narrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we obviously didn't get you, not that it would've mattered. There were plenty of other waterbenders, scattered across the south." He attempts to take a deep breath, and coughs blood for his pains. He wipes his mouth, tries to sit up, fails, hunches back down. "I always thought the whole thing was stupid."

Katara squeezes my hand harder. "Then why did you come to my tribe?"

He shrugs, or tries to. "Because we were ordered to. We'd gotten some sort of tip, that there was a waterbender in the Yuupik tribe. That was one of the few tribes that our predecessors had been sure they'd…well…_cleared out_." He looks to me. "Your father took it as a personal insult that there might be one left, so he ordered us to go get whoever it was."

Katara's eyes narrow. "And did you kill the last waterbender?"

He shakes his head. "Obviously not. You're here, aren't you?" He turns to me. "Look, I gotta die, I gotta die, I get it. I never thought I'd die in bed, and I knew from the beginning that your crazy bitch of a sister was going to get us killed. But do I really have to keep answering these questions?"

"Not only that," I say, "but if you insult my sister again, I can assure you that your death will be quite some time in coming."

He nods, almost respectfully. "Yeah, I had a feeling you were made of sterner stuff than your father led us to believe." He turns back to Katara. "Fine, let's continue. And no, I didn't kill the so-called _last waterbender of the Yuupik tribe_, but I know who did." He rolls his one eye. "And now that I think about it, no wonder you're still alive."

"What do you mean?" Katara asks.

"Because of who was supposed to do it, and who promised that he did it. That sniveling idiot, Yon Rha."

"_Yon Rha?_ That doesn't much sound like a Fire Nation name."

"That's because it isn't. He was some noble's Earth Kingdom by-blow, back in the colonies. Somehow, the kid lucked into some firebending talent, and when that noble found out about the kid, he took an interest, since this noble didn't have any legitimate sons. So this noble asshole brought the kid back to the Homeland, and got him into our unit." He smiles. "We're great for career advancement, you know. All those crazy missions, all those personal loyalty oaths, Ozai loves us."

"You don't seem to have a very high opinion of this Yon Rha."

"Why would I? He was useless. I mean, sure, he was good with a sword, and damn could he firebend, but at the end of the day? _He was soft._ Any time it came to getting dirty, he'd balk, and afterwards, he'd cry like a baby." He taps his chest. "Not good enough for us, not _strong_ enough for us."

Katara closes her eyes, and it's some time before she opens them again. When she does, she speaks, soft and low. "What happened with the Yuupik tribe?"

"Our boss then, that ladder-climbing cunt Yoshio – and good job on killing him, by the way, asshole always took the best spoils for himself – decided to give Yon Rha one more chance to toughen up. So, when we attacked your little tribal…_whatever_, Yon Rha was sent in to look for the waterbender while we distracted the warriors. I don't know what happened, but when Yon Rha came back, he had a woman's head in his hands and he was saying that it was done. We had no reason to doubt him, and we didn't want to be there anyways, so we left."

Katara leans forward. "Did he explain himself?"

Watanabe shakes his head. "Not really, no, but that was the mission that did him in. Weak, lily-livered bastard. Had no place in our company, I'll tell you that."

Katara's voice gets softer. "What happened to him?"

Watanabe actually manages a bit of a chuckle this time. "Him? As soon as we got back to the Homeland, he slit his own throat, that's what he did. Left some stupid little note about how he _couldn't forgive himself_ and whatever. We used to pass it around at night and laugh at it." He smiles. "Those were the days." His smile turns to a frown. "Though, really, we should've known something was up. The tip said that the waterbender was a little girl, but Yon Rha brings back a grown woman's head. That should've been the clue, really." He shrugs. "But I guess it's our fault for not asking." He sighs. "But yeah, that about covers it. Any more questions, _my lady?_" The last he says with a strange, disturbing attempt at a leer. If Katara is fazed by it, she doesn't show. Instead, she loosens her hold on my hand, and twists her face into an answering smile.

"Just two more, actually. Who was the informant? The one you got the tip from?"

He shrugs. "Like they told us? You'd have to ask Yoshio, assuming even he knew, and assuming you can find him in whatever pit of hell he's currently burning in." He looks to me. "Maybe you could take to your father about it, when you meet him."

"Maybe we will," Katara says. "As for my last question…do you feel sorry for what you've done? Not just to other peoples, but to your own?"

The look that Watanabe gives Katara is hard to describe. It's not just because of his injuries, either. No, it's more than that. It's something I've never really seen before. It's almost like the look one gets when one asks a small child why they did something, or the look one gets when one asks a dog a question. It's almost as if Katara had suddenly started speaking a different language, one Watanabe only knew a few words of, just enough to get the gist of what she said without the substance. He stared at her, that look in his eyes, before, finally, he said, "Why should I care?"

With that, Katara was done. Without another word, she released my hand, rose, turned on her heel, and walked away. I stood, drew my sword, went to the wretched creature before me, and, without a word myself, drove my sword through his throat. I didn't bother with finesse or precision, just left him curled up on the ground, choking on his own blood, bleeding what little life he had left into the dirt and the dust. I wiped my blade clean on his shirt, sheathed it, then walked after to Katara. I didn't have to run; she hadn't gotten far. She turned back as I approached. She had one arm wrapped tightly around her body, the other tilted up, the hand tightly grasping her necklace. Her face is very calm, very cool. We stand very close as she speaks.

"Did I ever tell you about Jet?"

I nod. "Quite a bit, actually."

"Probably…there's one thing I'm not sure I've told you, though. You see, towards the end of our time with him…heh…_my time with him_, I suppose…well…he took me along on one of his little _missions_. He showed me this dam that he was going to destroy, right? But I looked at the dam, and I saw that it wasn't military or anything. It was just a…well…_a dam._ And he was going to destroy it, flood this little Fire Nation base nearby. But the thing was, there was lots of other stuff in the way, farms and villages and things like that. So I asked him, _But won't that kill all of those civilians? None of them are even involved in the war effort. They're just villagers. Don't you think you should find another way?_ You know what he said?"

I shake my head. "No, I don't."

"He just kind of looked at me, with the same exact look that that…that…_that animal back there_, just gave to me. He just kind of blinked and said, _And I should care, why?_ That's when I knew what he was. That was the day I really learned that the Fire Nation did not have a monopoly on monsters."

I step toward her, lay my hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry." It's the only thing I can think to say.

She nods, reaches out, wraps her arms around me. I pull her close, let her lay her head on my chest, rest my chin on her head. "Me, too," she whispers. She sniffs, once, twice, before asking, "Can a Fire Mistress go on a personal vendetta, hunting for the person who betrayed her mother to death?"

I kiss her head. "I don't see why not."

She looks up at me, smiles. "Good." She pops up, kisses me on the cheek, then steps back, beginning the process of undoing her hair and returning it to the previously mentioned tight bun. "In the meantime, I think we need to take care of a few of the other monsters in the world."

I look up towards the sun. "Indeed."

* * *

There has long been this question, burning in my mind, of, _Where did the Fire Nation get the information on there being a waterbender in the South? _Seriously, how did they get that little tidbit? In the world of the show, the Southern Water Tribes are pretty isolated, and Katara seems to be doing her best to hide her talent from prying eyes. So, where did the information come from? The answer, when you think about it, is pretty obvious:

_There was a traitor._

In my mind, some member of Katara's tribe, or maybe a neighboring tribe (in my mind, the Water Tribes are just that, _tribes_, plural, and thus more _confederacies_ of smaller tribes than one cohesive whole, kind of like Native American tribes), sold her out for cash, or something like that. That doesn't say anything negative about Katara's people; no matter how nice a society is, there will _always_ be people like that. But once I came to that conclusion, I felt that Yon Rha, even in his ATLA incarnation, was no longer primarily at fault for the death of Katara's mother, Kya. No, Yon Rha was just doing his job; the _real_ villain, the _real _monster, was whoever blabbed. Thus, I present my version of _The Southern Raiders_. Hope I didn't piss anyone off.

By the way, for those playing the home game, I _totally_ just set up a bit of a sequel adventure. Katara and Zuko take a break from ruling the Fire Nation to go off and do ninja shit, looking for Zuko's mother and the traitor? Who _wouldn't_ want to read that?

In the next chapter, we head off to Ember Island, experience some feels, have some fluff, and set up the last act of the story. Stay tuned!


	71. Chapter 71

71. TOPH IS EQUAL PARTS HAPPY AND ANNOYED WHEN WE FINALLY SET DOWN ON EMBER ISLAND. The happy is mostly due to the fact that, if all goes well, within a day or two, we'll be hanging out with the rest of the gang again. The annoyed she explains to me, in not uncertain detail, as we disembark from the airship.

"You know, Sparky," she says, huffing as she stomps down the ramp, "it's not really a _vacation_ if you bring a whole fucking _division_ with you."

"For one thing," Katara says from my other side, her arm through mine, "it's not a _vacation_. We have work to do, and you know it."

"Whatever," Toph mutters.

"And for the other thing," I add, "I didn't bring a whole fucking _division_. I only brought my own personal guard, without whom my uncle and my advisors would never have let us come here. And my personal guard is barely a _battalion_."

Toph scoffs. "Right, just your personal guard."

"That's right."

"And the airship crew."

"Well, we couldn't exactly leave them at the last pit stop."

"And the naval squadron around the island."

"Hey, they were already here."

"And the garrison that's here permanently."

I sigh. "Look, are you done yet?"

Toph laughs. "Gods, no. I'm just getting warmed up."

"You know," Katara says, rolling her eyes, "if you wanted to stay behind wrecking shit with Iroh, you could've just said so."

Toph scoffs. "What, and leave you guys to have Naked Fun Time Shenanigans without locking the door? Where's the fun in _that?_"

"Plenty," I mutter, "if you're us."

"Amen," Katara whispers.

"I heard that!" Toph shouts.

"No," I say, "you didn't."

"Sokka's not here yet," Katara points out.

"I know, I'm just practicing," Toph says, "but still…I mean…why _couldn't_ we just stay at the front, huh? You have any idea how much fun I was having? I mean, did you guys even _**see**_ what I did to that one fortress? I didn't, sure, but I know it was fucking _awesome_. Wasn't it? Don't you guys wanna go back, see me do more?"

We've reached the actual earth by now. It feels nice, having solid dirt beneath our feet again. All around us, soldiers hustle and bustle. My guards (because, yes, I do have those now, sadly) stroll leisurely behind us, while others race on ahead, doing their jobs. The airship crew runs about, getting everything tied down and settled for our stay. At the end of the landing strip, a small party awaits, a couple of officers and what looks like a few local notables. In unison, Katara and I slow our pace when we spot them; neither of us are in any particular hurry for pomp and ceremony. Toph, of course, is heedless of any such considerations.

"I would love to see you do more, I really would," I say, biting down on an exasperated sigh, "but you know that we had to come here."

"The comet's in about three weeks or so," Katara continues, "and we still don't really know what Ozai has planned. The others might have heard something, and even if they haven't, we still need to decide what we're going to do."

Toph waves her hand in the air, dismissing all of this. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, _I get it_. Duty calls and blah blah blah and you guys gotta go do what you gotta go do, but still…_I was having so much __**fun!**_"

"We know you were," Katara says, "but the isthmus was secure and the offensive was on hold. All it's going to be for a couple of weeks is preparing for the march on Miyako and boring administrative, supply-side stuff."

"And you didn't really want to stick around for that, did you?" I ask.

Toph sighs. "No, I guess not…and it will be nice to see the others again…" She walks a few steps on, then comes to a stop. Her shoulder slump, and her face is rather downcast. She wraps an arm around her torso, reaches up, runs a hand through her hair. She's taken to wearing it down more often of late, and I have to admit that it look better. It falls, straight and black, down to the middle of her back. She gave no reason for the change, and there probably isn't a reason that anyone who's not Toph would understand.

Katara and I come to a stop next to her. We look at her, feeling worried. Katara and I exchange glances before focusing on Toph. "Are you alright?" I ask.

Toph shrugs. "I dunno. I guess? I just…what if they try to make me go back?"

"You know you don't have to leave if you don't want to, sweetheart," Katara says, voice soft and warm.

Toph nods. "I know, I know, but…what if they do?"

I reach out, lay a hand on her shoulder. "I really don't think they would. Sokka definitely wouldn't try that, and while Old Aang might've tried something like that, I like to think that New Aang has learned better."

Toph tries on a thin smile. "Twinkletoes was starting to act suspiciously grown-up last we saw of him."

Katara lays a hand on her other shoulder. "And besides, we need you here, and I'm pretty sure the troops would mutiny if we tried to take their little earthbending mascot away."

Toph giggles. "Heh…have I told you guys the latest verses of my song?"

"No," I say, "but I'm sure you will, before the day is done." I ruffle her hair, before turning Katara and I back to the delegation that awaits us not very far away. "Now, sadly, duty calls."

Toph scoffs. "I thought you were traveling all _officially incognito_ or whatever so you could avoid this kind of bullshit?"

Katara sighs. "We are, but that only goes so far. Now, try to be nice, and _please_ don't start belting out the verse about pinecones."

Toph groans. "Aww, but that's the best part! Even Iroh thinks so!"

I laugh. "Of that, I have no doubt. Now, come on. There's work to be done."

We arrive early in the morning, with the sun full and hot in the sky. It's not until sunset that Katara and I finally get to be alone. The intervening time is taken up with all kinds of mundane tasks, like making sure the troops are all settled in, checking over the house we're going to be staying in, making sure that there are plenty of fruits and vegetables in the pantry (our little gift to Aang), and, of course, trying to keep Toph from being _too Toph_. By the time sunset arrives, both the Fire Lord and his Fire Mistress are pretty much _done_. When we see that Toph has engaged a young lady in conversation, we decide to attempt our escape.

Ember Island had long been _the place to be_ for members of the upper class looking for a bit of a get-away. My dynasty has maintained vacation homes there for as long as anyone cares to remember, and it's at the most recent one of these mini-mansions that we're staying. Katara and I sneak out of our bedroom window, dressed as plainly as possible, and go scampering off into the dying light. We pick our way over small trails, leaving the big, popular beaches behind. There's no reason to avoid these; war has a tendency to put a damper on the tourist trade. Still, we pass the regular places by. There's a place I want to go, a place I want to take her, a place I've never, in my entire life, taken anyone before.

We find it just as the sun is halfway behind the horizon. The beach is small and, by the standards of most, very poor. The sand isn't much to look at, and the shoreline is dotted with rocks and boulders. We're not here for the beach, though. We're here for a particular rock, large and flat, perfect for two people to lay on. The flat surface faces directly into the sunset, and when we find it, I give a little whoop of joy. I take the blanket we've brought with us and spread it out on the rock. I sit down, while Katara stretches out beside me, her arms behind her head, her unfurled hair spreading out like a pillow beneath her. The rock is slightly tilted, so that she doesn't even have to raise her head to watch the sun sink below the horizon.

The view is glorious. This is what I've brought her here for, this is why we've come. The sky is a riot of color, reds and pinks and oranges and golds, the sun shooting fingers of rose and fire into the sky. The sea is almost blinding, a thousand-thousand sparkling fires, diamonds sparkling in the half-light. Off in the distance, a ship, a tiny black knife slicing through the waves, slowly inches across the edge of our vision. I look behind us, at the creeping night, the moon pale and translucent on the other side of the world. There, at the edges of the vast bowl above us, the sky is purple and blue, the deepest, darkest, most wonderful blue anyone could ever imagine. I take a deep breath, tasting the salt in the air, the smell of pine and sand and sun in my nostrils and on my tongue. I pull a crumbled pack of cigarettes out of my pocket, light them, pass one to Katara. We smoke them lazily, just watching the sun depart from the world.

Summer is coming, and it's very hot. The heat rises from the earth in shimmering waves. I strip off my shirt, which Katara steals, molds into a bundle, and lays beneath her head. We do this without talking. We do that a lot, just kind of…_do things_ without talking. It's like we don't really need to, sometimes.

_I feel like I've known her my whole life…_

Finally, one of us speaks. It's me. I say, "Do you think Toph will be alright?"

Katara watches the sunset a little longer before answering. "I think so, yeah. She won't say it, but she's just terrified that, when the others get here, we won't be a complete set anymore."

I mull that over. It's something that's been on my mind, too. Our parting at Kagoshima felt far too much like a _Last Goodbye_ to give me peace of mind. "Yeah…I understand that, too."

She takes a deep, long drag of her cigarette. "They would've gotten word to us, right? If something bad had happened?"

"I'm not sure. I'd like to think so...but what if they couldn't?"

She makes a face. I know this, even though neither of us are looking at each other. I don't know how to describe how this works, I really don't. "Yeah…but still, somehow, we would've heard, right?"

I nod. "Of course." I let out a thick cloud of smoke. "They wouldn't do that to us. I mean, we're talking about Aang. If something major happened, he would've hopped on Appa and come and told us."

Katara giggles. "Right in the middle of something important, too."

"Heh…and it would've turned out to not be that important, either."

"Right? He would just suddenly appear, land right in the middle of some big _something_, and be all, _Hey! Sokka stubbed his toe and he won't stop whining about it and so I thought I'd tell you and look at this new firebending move I came up with!_"

I chuckle, deep in my throat. "And then he'd be all, _Oh, yeah, and I just heard the other day that there was some weird __**thing**__ that lives near here that people can ride if they're crazy enough and I just had to come here and try it!_"

"Yeah, and then Sokka would somehow appear and he'd be all, _Ugh, I'm hungry, when's dinner?_ And then he'd complain the entire time about how there wasn't enough meat."

"Before or after he spent an hour fixing his ponytail in the first mirror he found?"

"Why not both?"

"Heh…yeah."

"Has he always been like that?"

"What? Obsessing over the ponytail thing?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, gods, if anything, he used to _worse_. And if there was even the _slightest_ possibility that he'd encounter a pretty girl that day? You can forget about using the _one fucking mirror in the house_ that morning."

"Gods, I have this mental image of, like, a fifteen-year-old Sokka, flexing his muscles and waxing his ponytail and being all, _Yeah, I'm hot. Who wouldn't want me?_"

That really sets her off. Smoke bursts out of her nostrils as she bursts into what can best be described as _hysterical giggles_, while I run a hand through my hair and chuckle at the image that my mind is drawing up of _Young Sokka_, assiduously shaving – _every day _– five strands of peach fuzz. She takes a deep breath as she calms down, fanning herself with her free hand.

"Yeah," she says, sighing, "that's my brother. He's always been an idiot, and a goof, and a bit of a loon, but gods, do I love him." She takes a final drag from her cigarette before tossing it aside and reaching a hand over to me, resting it lightly on my thigh. "I miss him, I really do."

I reach down, take her hand in mine, thread my fingers between hers. "Yeah…you and me, both. You know? I even miss Aang."

"Yeah…hey, babe?"

"Yeah?"

"When we all sit around and compare notes, let's leave out the whole thing with Watanabe. I'm really not sure how my brother would handle the fact that we were betrayed by one of our own, and I want the chance to tell both him and our father after everything is over and done with."

I nod. "Of course, Katara. I was going to let you handle that anyways." I finish my cigarette and throw it off the rock, before laying my free arm on my knee and resting my chin on my forearm. "How are you handling it?"

She frowns. "I don't know. I mean…I guess I always knew, deep down. It makes sense. How else would they have known to come there, at that time, and where to look? But…I'd be lying if I didn't say it didn't hurt." She lets out a little scoff. "We always like to believe that our side is the _good side_, and that that means more than, _We're the less evil side_."

I roll my head on my forearm, until I'm looking down at her. "Any side that has you on it is always going to be the good side to me."

She gives me a look that can best be described as _suggestive_. "Thus why you tied me to a tree that one time."

"Heh…I gave you your necklace back, didn't I?"

"You did, you did, without even holding out for information about Aang. That was when I began to suspect that you might not have been very good at the whole _bad guy thing_."

I sigh, turn back to the sunset. "Can I make a confession?"

"What, we haven't run out of those yet?"

"Oddly enough, no. You see, the thing is…well…heh…I totally had at _least_ three or four sex dreams after that whole _tying you to a tree _thing."

She giggles, frees her hand, reaches up with it to play with my hair. "Yeah, that makes two of us."

I turn on her, surprised. "Really?"

She nods, a glimmer in her eye. "_Really_. I mean, you had this…I dunno…this _look_ in your eyes, it was the first time I'd ever really taken the time to look at your face, you know? To really try to…_see you_. I was trying to figure out if you'd actually hurt me, and somehow, I looked in your eyes, and I knew…_I knew you wouldn't hurt me._ That you were going to give me my necklace back, and you meant every word you said, and that you would never be mean or cruel, and that I was going to be okay, because you said you'd save me from the pirates and you meant it." She turns back to the sun, her mouth creased into a faint smile. "It was after that that I had my first sex dream about you, that's for sure."

"How was it?"

"Nowhere _near_ as awesome as the reality ended up being, that's for sure." There's a long pause, nothing to be heard but the waves crashing into the shore. The heat has broken, and there's a soft, cool breeze blowing in from the sea. I feel a tug at my shoulder, and I follow it, follow Katara's hand down until I'm stretched out on the rock beside her. She lays her head in the crook of my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her while she rests her hand on my chest. She burrows in, begins tracing her little designs on my chest while I run my fingers through her tangled hair. We lay like that for a little while before we speak, letting the silence slide by like soft silk over our skin.

"Zuko?"

"Hmm?"

"Do we deserve this? This…this moment here? This happiness?"

"Are you happy?"

"When I'm with you, like this, I'm happier than I've been in my life. I just…I find myself falling into this elaborate fantasy, that this war had never happened, that none of this had ever happened, that you and I were just two lowly peasants who ran away from home one day and met and just went traveling the world together, doing nothing but being with each other, and that we grow old and never really accomplish anything and when we die, no one remembers our names. And so, when I'm laying here with you like this, thinking thoughts like that, I wonder…_do we deserve this?_"

I turn my head, press my lips softly into her forehead. "Of course we don't, Katara. No one deserves to be happy like this, to have moments like this, and definitely not us."

"Yeah…is it bad that I don't really care?"

I shake my head. "No, it's not. It's human, Katara." I kiss her forehead. "And as long as I get to have moments like this, where I'm human with you, I'm pretty sure I can handle anything else that comes along."

She tilts her head up, kisses me on the lips. "I really fucking like you, Zuko."

I smile, kiss her back. "I really fucking like you, too, Katara." I kiss her again, before saying, "Now, that said, I really think I need to hear more about this intricate fantasy of yours."

"Heh…it is pretty ridiculous. You see, the way I figure it…"

It really is an incredible fantasy. It's become mine since then. We share it together, making it more and more complex with each telling. We don't tell anyone else the details, though. Those are all our own.

* * *

One of the annoying things about trying to be a good writer is that you start to over-think things and do your best to avoid pitfalls and traps. One of the things I tend to find tedious about most fan fiction is the repetition you encounter sometimes. Why am I talking about this? Because there were about two or three chapters between the last one and this one, and while interesting, it was going to be…well…_repetitive._ Yeah, Zuko's winning the war, and yeah, like all armies, you have to pause the last offensive before you pause the next one, and yeah, Ozai's a cruel bastard and Azula's crazy. So, instead of writing that all out – _again _– I deleted those last couple chapters and just had Toph explain it for us, because I needed my Toph fix.

I also needed my Zutara fluff fix. There aren't too many opportunities for fluff in the last act here, because we're heading right for the climax, so I wanted to give us all a good one, and also show that, yeah, they're experience with destroying the Raiders has affected them, and will continue to affect them, I think, for the rest of their lives, but I think they'll do just fine, because these two? They're strong together.

For those playing the home game, one of my favorite pieces of fanart is this number here, and it's what I passed Zuko and Katara's little moment on: art/calm-before-the-storm-173631026

In the next chapter, Zuko and Katara get a burst on at an awkward moment, and the Gaang is back together again. Stay tuned!


	72. Chapter 72

72. THE FIRST WORDS I HEARD THE NEXT MORNING WERE, "OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, TOPH, REALLY?" The next words I heard, which were what caused me to sit up and take notice, were, "But…I'm not Toph…"

The night before, we'd stayed out on our rock until well after the sun went down, not doing anything in particular, just talking, cuddling, _existing_. When it came time to go to bed, we snuck back in exactly the same way we snuck out, that being our bedroom window. I'm sure my guards knew where we were the entire time, but it was still fun to pretend that we were pulling the wool over everyone's eyes. Toph was busy belting out _The Toph Song_ with some of the off-duty guards, so we took the opportunity to grab some food and a bottle of wine and retreat to our room. We didn't lock the door, because we'd long since learned that, if Toph wanted to burst in and tell us whatever crazy idea she'd just had, then she would, locks be damned. We ate, drank the wine, talked until far too late, one thing led to another, and come morning, we were happily snuggled up in bed, snoring away, wearing nothing but the blanket that Katara (as usual) was doing her best to steal the entirety of. Thus, when the door floor open and a feminine voice shouted, _"Good morning, love birds!"_, it was only natural for Katara to roar back what has become our traditional morning greeting for the girl, especially when we're in a state of undress. It's such a regular routine, in fact, that I didn't even bother to fully acknowledge it until the aforementioned response, which was said in a quiet, confused voice that was anything but Toph's.

I pulled myself into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Beside me, Katara was doing the same, holding the blanket firmly to her chest. The sun was shining through the windows, bright and clear, bathing the room in a soft, golden warmth. Any idiot could see that it was going to be a beautiful day, even if the Fire Lord and his Fire Mistress had just been woken up far earlier than they had planned. I looked towards the door, my vision beginning to clear, trying to figure out who had woken us up, when Katara, pulling what little of her hair was willing to be controlled at that moment out of her face, muttered, _"Aang?"_

_That_ woke me up fairly quickly. I blinked a few more times, and with that, I finally perceived the Avatar himself, standing in the doorway, mouth hanging open and eyes about as big as dinner plates. I ran a hand through my hair, and said, "Do I even want to know?"

Aang opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking remarkably like a particularly stupid fish, his eyes darting about, obviously desperate to look _anywhere_ but straight forward. "Oh…uh…um…Toph said…um…that you were…in here…and…uh…she said that…um…that you were probably awake and just…um…hiding from her…I guess? Um…" He took a deep breath, smiled happily at the ceiling, and finished in a mad rush, "_AndIjustwantedyoutoknowwewerehereandgoodmorningandwemissedyoubye!"_ With that, he beat a hasty retreat, bolting out of the doorway and, naturally, leaving the door swinging wide open. Katara and I stared at each other for a few moments before we both shouted, in unison, _"Tooooooph!"_ All we got for our troubles was a loud, cackling burst of laughter from across the house, which caused Katara to throw herself back onto the bed and mutter, "I'm going to fucking kill that girl one of these days, so help me."

I shook my head, trying not to laugh. "You and me, both, though, I have to admit, the girl got us, and she got us good."

Katara mulled that over from behind closed eyes. "True, and it was a stroke of brilliance to rope Aang into the act." She giggles. "Did you _see_ the look on his face?"

"Heh…that was pretty priceless."

"What was pretty priceless?"

I look towards the new voice, a feminine one this time, to find, standing before me in all her glory, the lovely Suki. She was leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed, a bemused look on her face. Beside me, Katara bolts right back up, and emits a very un-Fire Mistress-like squeal. _"Suki!"_

Suki laughs. "I take it that Aang fell hook, line, and sinker for Toph's little prank?"

"You could say," I reply, smiling. "Is Sokka here, too?"

She nods, flipping a random strand of hair out of her face. That draws my attention to the fact that she looks…well…_different._ When we last saw her, Suki was drawn, concerned, nervous, consumed with fear for her sisters back on Kyoshi. Now, here she was, smiling from ear-to-ear, looking relaxed and healthy, and, to top it all off, she had apparently spent the last few months growing out her hair, which had been kept at chin-length before, but now seemed to fall far down her back.

"Yeah," she says, "Sokka's here, which is partly why I'm here, before you, right now, to relay his very polite request that you two get dressed before he comes in to say hi." She giggles softly. "Needless to say, we smelled a rat as soon as we ran into Toph."

"So," Katara says, looking as happy as I felt, "my brother's gotten a little smarter in the time since I last saw him?"

Suki scoffs. "Well, I wouldn't exactly go _that_ far, sweetie, but let's just say that even on a bad day, he's not an idiot. We were wary of a _Toph Trick_ from the moment we set down." She looks around at the room, taking in the clothes scattered across the floor. "Now, about that whole _getting dressed_ thing, since the last thing I want to see is the Fire Lord's naughty bits…"

I laugh, point at a pair of pants on the floor. "I get it, I get it. Can you toss me those?"

She leans down, snatches the pants, and tosses them to me. I reach under the covers, slipping them on before I slide out of the bed and reach down for my shirt. I'm about to say something to Suki when I head a soft cough from behind me. I turn to Katara, shirt in my hand, and see her, reaching out, a cute look on her face. Without another word, I sigh, toss her the shirt, and turn to Suki. "Is this dressed enough?"

Suki looks me up and down. "I suppose, at least for me." She throws a wink in Katara's direction. "I see why you like him so much now."

Katara rolls her eyes as her head pops out of the collar of my shirt. "I know, right? It's ridiculous, and totally unfair. How am I supposed to concentrate if he's going to go prancing around bare-chested?" She slides out of the bed, and, without a second's hesitation, hurls herself across the room and into Suki's waiting arms. The two girls laugh and squeal and just in general act like girls half their age, immediately lapsing into the high-pitched, fast-paced weird little language that girlfriends have amongst themselves and that no man is ever encouraged to know. I know when I'm not needed, so I snatched a pack of smokes from the nightstand and gave Katara a kiss as I headed out into the rest of the house.

I found the others lounging in the main room, Toph and Sokka sprawled on sofas while Aang paced nervously around the table in the middle. I was in the middle of lighting my cigarette when I walk in, to be immediately confronted by a shame-faced Avatar, who looks down at the ground and rubs his hands together.

"Hey, Zuko, I'm really sorry about that, I should've knocked. I just got so excited to see you guys, and there's so much to talk about, and…" He shoots a venomous look at Toph before turning back to the spot between my toes. "And, well…_the Lady Bei Fong_ took advantage of me."

I chuckle, finish lighting my cigarette, reach out and rub his head. "Don't worry about it, buddy. Better men than you or I have fallen victim to _the Lady Bei Fong_."

"And will continue to do so," Toph says, doing nothing to conceal her amusement, "until you guys stop calling me _the Lady Bei Fong!_"

"You did kind of earn it this time, girl," Sokka says, before lazily standing up and walking over to me. We do a little dance, throwing air punches at each other before enveloping each other in a very manly round of embracing and back slaps. We pull back to arm's length, before Sokka says, "I gotta say, though, I missed you, man."

I laugh. "I missed you, too." I turn to Aang. "And you, too, buddy." I look him up and down before saying, "And I see you shaved your head."

Aang shrugs, rubbing his now bare skull. "Yeah…I didn't want to, honestly."

"Really?" I ask. "Why not?"

Sokka gives Aang a little slug in the arm. "The girls loved it."

I laugh. "Well, then why get rid of it?"

Aang shrugs again. "Nobody recognized me without a shaved head. I got tired of constantly pulling up my sleeves to show my tattoos, especially once it started to get cold, so I just had to buckle down and shave." He shudders. "Winter was not pleasant, I can tell you that."

"I would imagine not." I give him my best smile. "Well, you still look good, buddy. In fact," I continue, giving him another once-over, "unless I'm mistaken, you've grown a bit."

Aang practically _shines_ at that. "Really? You think so? I feel like I'm bigger." He looks down at himself, and chuckles. "I am sixteen, after all." He frowns, rubs his skull again. "That's the biggest thing with the shaven-head thing, though. It makes me look, like, young and creepy and all."

"Well," I offer, "why not just grow it out again after the war?"

"That's what I was gonna do anyways." He puts a smile back on his face. "But enough about me and my hair! We have enough to talk about without giving me style critiques!"

"It's a lost cause anyways, Twinkletoes," Toph says.

Aang rolls his eyes. "Haven't you tormented me enough today?"

"Not even close. I've got almost half-a-fucking-_year_ to make up for."

Aang sighs. "_Lucky me."_

"Well, we can fuck with Aang later," Sokka says, steering the conversation back on course. "First, I think we need to eat." He grabs his stomach. "I won't lie, I'm starving."

"And when are you _not?_"

I barely have time to acknowledge the reality of the voice before Sokka has practically knocked me over, rushing past me and lifting his sister up in the air and spinning her around and around. They both shout and laugh and giggle and just in general act like little kids at a birthday party, before Katara pounds on her brother's shoulders to get him to put her down again. Sokka puts his arms around her and Suki's shoulders, and leads them into the room, smiling at me.

"Well," he says, laughter brimming from every pore, "I think it's time to fucking _eat_, guys!"

I sock him lightly in the chest. "Fine, fine, let's eat. Let me go see what the cooks have ready."

Sokka opens his eyes wide. "_Cooks?!_ We have _cooks?!_" He looks to Katara. "Since when did you have freaking _cooks?!_"

Suki pokes Sokka in the side and says, "The Fire Mistress doesn't cook her own meals, you big goof."

Sokka mulls on that for a moment. "You don't?" he asks his sister.

Katara giggles. "Not unless I want to, which is fortunate, because after feeding your big, lazy ass all my life, I don't really have the desire anymore."

Sokka scoffs. "_Big?_"

Toph sneaks around behind, and swats Sokka on the rear, causing him to jump about a foot in the air in surprise. "I think that's pretty apt, Snoozles."

Sokka lets go of the other two girls to rub his butt, all while rolling his eyes. "Whatever." He turns back to me. "So, you gonna go find out about the food or what?"

I turn to Aang. "I see his manners haven't improved."

Aang laughs. "You have _no_ idea."

"Any day now!" Sokka urges.

"Fine, fine," I say, heading for the kitchens. "I'm going, I'm going. By the gods, you're frustrating sometimes."

"Love you, too, buddy!"

"Yeah, yeah."

I'd be lying if I tried to pretend that I didn't have the biggest smile I've had in _months_ on my face just then. It really did feel like this was it, the beginning of a new chapter, the final chapter, and that, for once in my life, everything was going to turn out alright.

* * *

And just like that, the Gaang's back together! For those playing the home game, the ages are now: Sokka – 23, Zuko – 22/about to turn 23, Suki – 22, Katara – 21, Toph and Aang – 16. Everyone got that? Good!

This chapter was just some fun. I like having the Gaang back together, you know? We're going to have some dialogue fun in the next chapter or so. By the way, if you think everyone is being a little too flippant, then you obviously have never gone out to a party the night before taking a test you just know you're going to fail, or at least not enjoy taking. We all need our hope spots, and this little get-together, even if it'll only be for a few days? This is the Gaang's. I hope you enjoy it as much as they will.

Speaking of which, in the next chapter, the Gaang gets each other up to speed, and decide to attend a play. Stay tuned!


	73. Chapter 73

73. THE GOOD VIBES CONTINUE THROUGH BREAKFAST. We eat and we talk and we laugh. Even when we speak of unpleasant things, we feel somehow…_alright_, as if, by the mere fact of being together, those things are firmly in our past. I feel light, airy, _breathless_. I think back to when I was growing up, how I'd see servants, peasants, soldiers, guards, other nobles, standing in groups and laughing over shared jokes, throwing back their heads and smiling, with these…_expressions _on their faces, as if, just by being with these people they called _friends_, they could conquer the world. I remember watching them, from wherever I was, in my isolated little corner, and feeling, well, _jealous_. I also dreamed that someday, I'd be like that, too.

And here, at the Fire Nation Royal Family's vacation home on Ember Island? I finally know what those people felt.

_And it feels good…_

We kneel around a low table, eating and talking and sipping tea. Smoke hangs low and thick over the table. The biggest contributor to that is Sokka, who reintroduces himself to Fire Nation tobacco with gusto. Here, at breakfast, we content ourselves with getting each other up to speed, which turns out to not be a particularly difficult process for Katara and I. It's been difficult to get reliable information from the Earth Kingdom back to the Fire Nation, but every regiment my father sends the other way took fresh news with it, fresh news that ended up in the hands of my father's enemies more often than not.

"So," I say, munching on an apple, "you guys know pretty much everything that's happened here?"

"More or less," Sokka says. "I mean, we're missing some of the details, sure, and we didn't know how your most recent campaign had turned out, but we've got a pretty good idea of the big picture."

"Is it true, by the way, what your sister did along the Jang Hui?" Aang asks, frowning.

I grimace, nod. "I'm afraid so, yes. It was…awful."

Katara reaches over and takes my hand, squeezes it. "But we gave her a piece of her own medicine, don't you worry. What I would've given to have been a fly on the wall when she had to take _that_ piece of news back to Daddy Ozai."

"So," Suki asks, voice soft and small, "she got away?"

I frown. "I'm afraid so. Though…I dunno…a part of me is glad she got away. A small part, sure, but it's still there."

"What do you mean?" Sokka asks around a mouth full of food.

I make sure not to make eye contact with that mouth as I answer. "Because…I have no pleasant memories of my father. It's easy for me to see now that he's always been a monster. But my sister? Well…she didn't used to be like this. And even when I saw what she did, when I see the wreckage she leaves behind, it's…it's hard not to remember the little girl I used to know, playing with turtle-ducks with our mother." I squeeze Katara's hand, and sigh heavily. "So I'm not looking forward to when I finally have to take her down, whatever that ends up meaning."

Suki mulls this over before nodding her head. "Yeah…I understand that. You don't have to feel bad." She smiles. "It's just one more sign that you're a good guy, Zuko." Her smile turns mischievous as she shifts her gaze to Katara. "Though, on a lighter note, I think some congratulations are in order here."

Katara arches an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Aang says, "it's not every day that one finds out that the girl who used to cook you dinner is now the _Fire Mistress._"

Katara sighs, puts a hand over her face. "Oh, you guys know about that?"

I turn to her, bemused. "What's so bad about that?"

She looks at me through her fingers. "Because, if _they_ know, then _Dad_ knows."

My heart drops into the pit of my stomach. "Ah."

Katara smiles and comes out from behind her hand to peck me on the cheek. "Yes, _ah_." She turns to Sokka. "So, how'd he take it?"

Sokka rolls his head back and forth, as if debating how to answer the question. "Well, I won't lie, at first he wasn't particularly _pleased._ He heard the word _mistress_ and assumed that you had basically been made the _chief whore_ or something like that. He calmed down a bit when one of our Fire Nation allies explained that it wasn't meant that way, that you were, in essence, an uncrowned Fire Lady."

"Of course," Suki continues, "that just started him in on thinking that you'd gone and gotten married without so much as asking for his blessing."

"Which, of course, required us to explain that no, the title was so you could have an official role _without_ getting married, no doubt so you and Zuko could observe the proper formalities once the war was over." Sokka paused, just long enough to begin munching on a piece of bacon, before saying, "Naturally, this started him off on a whole _other_ tangent, that basically being that you were living in sin with a man outside of marriage."

"Oh, boy," I say, shaking my head. I know I should feel frightened, intimidated, or even a little _ashamed_, but one look at the sly smile on Katara's face is all I need to know that it's okay to be amused at the idea that a father could find time to worry about his daughter's virtue in the middle of the closing act of a vicious century-long war. "Wait…he's not mad at Katara, is he?"

"Gods, no," Sokka says, finishing his bacon and reaching for another piece. "He went through this whole period where he was just mad at you, because he felt that you'd seduced his _darling innocent little daughter_ or something."

"Then," Aang says, "he got mad at Sokka, for allowing himself to be blinded by his love for his _bro_ so much that he couldn't save his daughter's virtue."

"At that point," Suki contributes, "it was just starting to get ridiculous. I mean, I love Hakoda, but he was starting to spend more time thinking about this crap than he was about the war."

"Right?" Sokka shakes his head. "And the thing was, I don't even think he was actually _mad_, per se. He just felt like he was _supposed_ to be upset, so he just kind of…fussed over it."

"So," Katara says, chin in the palm of her hand, looking utterly enthralled, "you keep using past-tense. How did you guys convince him to move on?"

Sokka hooks a thumb at Aang. "Believe it or not, it was all the Avatar's doing."

Aang adopts a smug expression. "Bringing peace and balance between the nations of the world is my primary duty, after all." His next word, by the way, is _ow,_ because Toph has just reached over and smacked him upside the head. He rubs the injured spot, asks, "What was that for?"

Toph settles back down to her cigarette. "Being smug, of course. But, continue."

Aang shoots her a look, though halfway through he seems to remember the futility of such a gesture. He sighs, says, "You know, it's really frustrating, never being able to shoot you the looks you deserve."

Toph giggles. "I know, right? I keep telling you, guys, being blind is the fucking _bomb_." She waves at Aang, twirling smoke through the air. "But, like I said, continue."

"Well, if the Lady Bei Fong commands it-_Ow!_ For fu-_grrr_, for the love of…_ugh! __**Anyways**_, like I was saying, I basically sat Hakoda down and was all, _Look, sir, really, you're looking too deeply into this. You have to remember, the Fire Nation is very image-conscious. In order for them to accept Katara's role in the fight, Zuko had to give her __**some**__ kind of title, and everyone decided it would be easier if the country thought they were lovers than trying explain that they're just really good friends who work together a lot._"

"And share a bed," Toph adds.

"And cuddle like cuddly cuddle bunnies," Suki throws in.

"And hold hands at the breakfast table," Sokka contributes.

Toph raises a finger. "And the fucking! Don't forget the fucking."

"I don't think Aang will _ever_ forget the fucking," Suki says, before reaching over, rubbing Aang's head, and saying, "Poor thing."

"I wish _I _could forget the fucking," Sokka mumbles into his tea. "But yeah, _getting back to the story_, Aang just convinced Dad that it was all for show."

"And Dad believed that?" Katara asks, incredulous (all while her finger traces lazy patterns up and down my inner thigh under the table).

Sokka shrugs. "Deep down, like, legitimately? Probably not. But it makes him feel better to _choose_ to believe it, so he does, and everyone's a happy camper. Don't be surprised, though, if, after the war, he starts trying to pressure you into coming back home."

Katara rolls her eyes, her pattern tracing starting to stray into delicate areas. "Gods, what the fuck would I do a thing like that?"

"Psh, the fuck should I know? You'd have to ask him. No doubt, in his mind, deep down, you'd rather be wife to some nice Water Tribe boy than the freaking Fire Lady."

"Then Daddy Hakoda doesn't know our Sugar Queen very well," Toph says, with a scoff, of course.

Katara swats at her with her free hand. "Be nice, my Dad means well. He's just old-fashioned." She turns back to Aang. "Thank you, by the way, for calming my father down, seeing as _somebody_," this said while she glares at her brother, "couldn't be bothered to do it."

"Hey! The fuck did I do?"

"Something, no doubt," I say. "That is all well and good, of course, but _else_ have you guys been up to? You know, what with the war and everything?"

"Oh, right!" Aang chuckles to himself. "That!"

As it turns out, without my crazed sister running around, my nation's war in the Earth Kingdom has turned out to be lackluster at best. Most of the units will typically only defend themselves, going out of their way to avoid going on the offensive. Units raised in the south have proved particularly unreliable for my father; as word filtered over of the spread of my rebellion, the vast majority of southern units up and defected.

"So that now," Sokka says, still stuffing his face, "there isn't an allied army in the field that doesn't have a pretty significant Fire Nation element in it."

"Have there been Fire Nation-on-Fire Nation battles in the Earth Kingdom?"

Aang makes a face, sighs. "I'm afraid so, Zuko. Units from outside of your area of control are still too afraid of your father to do anything but stand and fight."

"In other words," Katara says, "it's still very much a war."

"But a war we're winning," Suki says, smiling.

That's when Sokka drops the biggest piece of news: Ba Sing Se has been re-taken. This floors those of us who've been trapped in the Fire Nation, of course, but the time delay doesn't make us any less pleased to hear it. It turns out that my father made a major miscalculation, broadcasting the information about my sister's ravaging of the Jang Hui in every morbid detail. The idea was to terrify his troops into standing firm. For many, it worked. Unfortunately for my father, though, at least half the garrison of Ba Sing Se had been raised in the area that my sister had so gleefully laid waste. These men banded together, and began communicating with Aang. Apparently, Sokka and Suki spent a couple of weeks sneaking in and out of the city, crafting a plan. When the time was right, the troops mutinied, raised my banner, and opened several gates for a waiting Earth Kingdom army. Much of the rest of the garrison surrendered at that point, but there was still plenty of fighting.

"How bad was it?" I ask. I can't help but think of the pain and degradation I saw in the Lower Tiers, of my uncle's tea shop, of the budding friendships I had begun to form with the other waiters, of Jin and her kind mother, of all the fast friends my uncle had made. I know we all feel the same, which makes what Aang has to say next all the harder to hear. He makes a face and says, "It got pretty bad. There was a contingent of the Royal Guard who made a stand in the Upper Tier, and the Dai Li fought even harder than they did. I did my best to subdue them before anything could get out of hand, but there was still a lot of damage."

"Just one more thing my people will have to atone for when this is all said and done," I mutter to myself. The list is getting absurdly long.

"Actually," Suki says, looking at me with great kindness, "the Dai Li did way more damage than any of your people did."

"Apparently," Sokka says, "they figured out that the Earth Kingdom troops who were pouring into the city weren't in any mood to take traitors like them prisoner."

"Did Kuei survive, at least?" Katara asks.

"Of course he did," Sokka says, proud. "What, you think Suki and I left him there at the Dai Li's mercy? _Please._"

Katara's eyes go wide. "No. Way. Really?"

Suki nods, smiling at Sokka. "Really. It was…pretty impressive, I have to admit. When your brother puts his mind to something, and there isn't some diabolical death trap waiting for him, he can do some pretty amazing things."

I look from Sokka to Suki, back again, then back once more, before saying, "Can I ask a question real quick that has, like, nothing to do with any of this?"

"I don't see why not," Sokka says. "It's not like we're doing a very good job of staying on task anyways."

"Right…well…are you two…like…_together_ or something?"

"I was just thinking the same thing," Katara says.

"You two usually are," Toph mutters.

"Quiet you," Katara barks, before turning back to her brother. "But really, I keep hearing about you two sneaking in here, you two sneaking in there, you two on this mission, you two on that mission, you two snatching the Emperor out of his confinement…it does lead to one asking questions."

Suki blushes, before turning to Sokka. "You know, I seem to remember having a similar conversation with your father, only slightly more awkward."

"Well, it's not like these two can judge us or anything," Sokka points out. "But, to answer your question, no, not really. It's…what was the word you used, Suki?"

"_Complicated,_ I believe. At least, that's what I told your father."

I nod. "I can understand complicated."

"It really is," Suki says. "It's hard to explain." Her face starts to fall, her smile starts to fade away, the color draining from her face. "It's just-"

"Hey, sweetheart," Katara says, reaching over and laying a hand on Suki's, "it's okay, you don't have explain anything you don't want to. We're all friends here, and Toph won't press, either."

Toph scoffs. "No promises that I won't make suggestive innuendos, though. I need a new target, after all."

"Oh, we came prepared for that," Suki says, the color returning to her face. It really is a sudden change; for a moment, she was fading back into how she was before we parted in Kagoshima, but now, all of a sudden, she's all smiles. Before I can think on that, or share a glance with Katara about it, though, Suki continues on by saying, "But nevermind. I believe we still have catching up to do."

"Right!" Aang says. "So, as I was saying…"

The rest of the morning is taken up by that _getting up to speed _business. It's a long and convoluted story, on both sides, but the basic point is that those armies still loyal to my father are completely on the defense, barely holding on to the territory originally conquered by Fire Lord Sozin a hundred years ago. Even then, only the fear that the colonists have of Earth Kingdom retribution keeps the troops in anything approaching a fighting spirit. For the most part, the war had reached a bit of a lull when the others came to meet us. Everyone seems to be gathering their strength, holding their breath, waiting for the actors to take the stage for the final act.

"So…what _is_ your crazy-ass father planning, anyways?" Sokka asks. We've moved outside, settled down on a grassy spot behind the mansion. We've all kicked off our feet, wriggling our toes in the grass.

"Honestly," I say, "I have no idea. He always said it would be big, but then again, what does that even _mean_, you know?"

"Do we have any clues?" Aang asks.

Katara shakes her head. "Not really. Whatever it is, Ozai is keeping it close to his chest. We had hoped that a few of those close to Azula might now, seeing as she's, well…_Azula_, and not prone to keeping her mouth shut, but the few Raiders we left alive long enough to question didn't know a thing."

"So, either my sister doesn't even know," I finish, "or it's big enough that even she sees the need to keep it to herself."

"And for someone as found of _villain monologues _as her, that's saying something," Toph points out.

"Isn't that the gods-damn truth," Suki says, shaking her head. "So, what are we to do?"

"As far as I can see," Aang says, "all we can do is keeping doing what we're doing, and hope that when Ozai strikes, we can stop him before he does too much damage."

"Which brings up the question," Katara says, lifting her head from my lap to look at Aang, "what exactly do you intend to do with Ozai, when he comes for you?"

"What makes you think he'll come for Aang?" Sokka asks. "Why not come for Zuko?"

"Because he's a crazy motherfucker?" Toph offers.

"Well, he is," I say, "but that's not why he'll come for Aang. If he's still the way he's always been, then I doubt he really sees me as a threat. As far as he's concerned, he's playing for the entire _world_, not just individual kingdoms. So what if his useless son wins a few victories? That hardly changes the equation in his eyes. No, his real equal is the Avatar. It's the fight he's been dreaming of all his life, and he's not going to pass it up."

"So," Aang says, frowning, "he really is going to come for me."

Katara nods. "I'm afraid so."

Aang sighs. "I don't want to kill him, I really don't. I mean…I know I've killed people in battle at this point, because you guys, it's a war, and the sooner it's over, the fewer people have to die. But…this? This is murder. Real, premeditated, _murder_." He looks off into the distance. "That doesn't sit well in my stomach." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "That's part of why I came here. I really wanted to ask what you guys thought about it. I trust you guys more than I trust anyone in the world. If you think that it's best that I kill Ozai, then I'll trust you, and I'll do what I have to do." He turns away from the horizon, a thin smile on his face. "But if you can help me think of a way out of it, well, the _Old Aang_ who still lurks within me won't particularly mind."

A moment of silence follows this declaration, before Toph, naturally, breaks the silence by saying, "Yeah, well, no fucking pressure, right, guys? Thanks for that, Twinkletoes."

Aang frowns. "I'm sorry…"

Katara stretches out her leg and kicks Toph in the side before turning to Aang. "Don't be sorry. I mean, Zuko and I have advisors, why shouldn't you?"

I laugh. "I thought _you_ were one of my advisors."

Katara scoffs. "Please, I'm _the_ fucking advisor."

Sokka chuckles. "Fire Lord, eh? Master of all you survey?"

"Except my own bed, apparently."

"Damn straight," Katara says, smiling up at me. I reward her with a kiss, which she eagerly accepts before turning back to Aang. "That said, though, I don't think this is going to be settled right here and now."

"Yeah," Sokka says, "I think we'll all have to think about it."

"And I don't really want a vote at all," Suki mutters. "I mean, I love that you guys trust me and all, but I don't feel qualified for this kind of thing, nor do I want to be, to be honest."

"That's cool," Toph says, leering, "You can just help me make up my mind." She punctuates the statement with a wink.

Suki just clucks her tongue. "I can never decide if you're so confidant_ in spite of_ your blindness, or _because_ of it."

"Probably a combination of both," Sokka says.

"No doubt," I say. "So, since we're all not comfortable giving an opinion now, how about we reconvene tomorrow at breakfast, and give our reasons then?"

Aang mulls it over, nods. "I think…that sounds fair." He brightens, and for a moment, the fourteen-year-old boy is back, as bubbly as ever, as he says, "So, what should we do until then? Ice surfing? Or maybe a ball game? Or how about we go find some strange creature to ride around on?"

No doubt Katara and I would've been able to head Sokka's words off at the pass, but, unfortunately for my peace of mind, we were too busy trying not to burst into hysterics. Indeed, we were so busy with that, that we barely noticed Sokka pulling out a rolled-up piece of parchment. We do, however, hear Toph go, "Did Sokka just pull something out of his pants?"

"I did, indeed, Toph! And it's something I think we will all find interesting!"

Suki sighs. "That's the last time I read something to you, Sokka."

"Whatever. Point is, check it out!" He leans over, and spreads the parchment on the ground. It appears to be a play bulletin, and as I inspect it further, all I can do is groan and throw myself back into the grass.

"No."

The others turn to me. Aang scratches his chin. "Why not? It sounds like a pretty good way to spend an evening."

I cover my eyes. "Trust me guys, you're going to thank me on this one. The Ember Island Players are, by popular, widespread opinion, the worst fucking acting troupe in the entire Fire Nation."

"How bad are they?" Suki asks.

I laugh. "People come from all over the country, just to see if they're really that bad. Rumor has it that no one has been left unsatisfied."

"I'm not gonna lie," Sokka says, "but…that sounds kind of awesome."

Toph nods. "I'm with Sokka. That sounds like a great way to spend our evening. I mean…can you smoke?"

I sigh. "It's the Fire Nation, you can smoke everywhere. And yes, there'll be booze."

Toph smiles. "Then I don't see what we're waiting for! Let's go!"

I uncover my eyes, look to Katara. "Don't tell me that you guys are going to make me go to this fucking thing…" I hold nothing back, looking as cute and pleading as possible, because _relationship manipulation_ goes both ways, kids.

Alas, I'm an amateur, trying to fight with a pro. Without a moment's hesitation, Katara leans down, her hair tickling my face, as she presses her lips to my ear and whispers, "_I promise I'll make it worth your while…"_

I glare. "You're evil, you know that?"

"I know, but you like me."

"Damn it…I do." I pop up, kiss her, then mumble, "Alright, guys, let's go."

They all cheer, which just goes to show that they've never seen the Ember Islands Players' rendition of _Love Amongst the Dragons._

* * *

Damn, guys, that was a long one, but then again, there was a lot of ground to cover. Plus, I was just having too much fun getting the Gaang back together.

Fun Fact: Sokka and Aang's way of handling Hakoda is basically how my girlfriend and I handle her very traditional, very Catholic Latino parents. Basically, we just present this patently false, but very attractive alternative explanation for everything, and they happily accept it. It works amazingly well, oddly enough.

So, yeah, I'm not going to ramble much in this note. This chapter's long enough as it is!

In the next chapter, the Gaang goes to the theater, have some good times, and go home in a happy mood. Stay tuned!


	74. Chapter 74

74. NIGHT HAS FALLEN. Sokka and I sit on the beach behind the house, watching the waves crash into the shore. The night is quiet, calm, and rather warm. The sand is hot beneath me. The moon hangs high in the sky, turning the sea into a shifting bed of sparkling snow. We watch it, the water shifting back-and-forth, the taste of salt thick in the air. We pass a bottle of fire whiskey between us. We're pretty toasted, which is just fine by us.

It's just the two of us. The others have all gone inside, the girls to talk and drink some more, Aang to go to bed, because _damn_ that boy can't hold his liquor. Sokka and I, though, have ended up wandering around the island, until we found ourselves here, on what was once the Royal Family's private beach. We're not out here for any particular reason, just kind of…_being_.

"I gotta say, Zuko," Sokka says, wiping his mouth and passing the bottle over, "when you said that those people sucked _ass_, you weren't kidding."

I chuckle as I take a gulp of whiskey. "Hey, you guys can't say I didn't warn you."

"No, no we can't. Have they always been like that?"

"Apparently, or at least as far back as I can remember." I toss a spent cigarette away, light a new one. "You know, my uncle has this theory, that they're actually the greatest actors of the age, because the level of _bad_ that they have achieved is something of an art form."

Sokka nods, accepts my offer of a light. He takes a long drag, puffs it out, says, "I have to admit, he may be on to something. I mean…_gods_, you're not supposed to laugh when that one character dies, right?"

I shake my head. "No, you're not. You're supposed to be bawling your eyes out."

"Well, I was crying, alright, but it wasn't because I was sad. I mean…the way the actor made that _death rattle_ noise when he croaked?" He giggles. "Gods, that was _hysterical_."

"Yeah…you know, _Love Amongst the Dragons_ was my mother's favorite play."

"No shit?"

"No shit. She used to drag us to it every year when we were here. She loved it, couldn't get enough of it. She'd always get so mad, because Azula and I would just sit there and make fun of it the entire time."

"Well, I can't blame you. Mocking and heckling the actors _does_ seem to be part of the show."

"It really is, which explains why Toph had such a good time."

"Heh…I thought the actress playing the love interest lady was going to have a stroke, she was so mad."

"Would've improved the show, that's for sure."

"Right? Though I'm surprised you even noticed."

"What do you mean?"

"Gods, the way you and my sister were canoodling the whole time? Yeesh! One would've thought you two were just love-struck teenagers, not the Fire Lord and the freaking Fire Mistress!"

"Hey, you know how often we get to be like that?"

"Every night?"

"Point, but I mean in public, around normal people. It's, like…_never_, man. Especially right now." I heave a heavy sigh. "Man, I can't _wait_ for this war to be over, for the world to get back to some kind of semblance of normality."

Sokka nods sagely as he takes another gulp from the bottle. "I'm not sure it'll ever be normal for you two, though."

I turn to him, extend a drunkenly wavering finger. "Hey, that's what _you_ think." I pat my chest. "Me, I've got a plan."

"Oh? And what plan's that? Run off together and live some kind of strange, nomadic existence? Because somehow, I could see you two digging that."

"Heh…well, that's the back-up plan, that's for sure, but that's not what I'm talking about."

"What _are_ you talking about?"

"If you'd shut the fuck up and listen, you'd hear it."

"I'm trying to, but I can't focus on anything other than how empty this bottle is getting."

"Here, I brought extras." I bring around the pack that we brought with us, which clinks in a rather satisfactory way. I dig through it, tossing out a few empties, until I find what I'm looking for. I crack it open and take a big gulp before passing it over. "There. Happy now?"

He polishes off the previous bottle and takes the new one. "Quite. So, what's this plan?"

"Well, it's simple. After the war, I'm going to put the future of the Fire Nation to a vote. Basically, the way things are? They can't continue. An absolute monarchy only works so long as there's not some power-mad psycho at the helm."

"But you're not like that."

"Thank you, but the thing is, what if my son is? Or his son? Or _his _son? It's only a matter of time until we're right back where we started. So, things need to change. I'm going to ask the people to decide between a constitutional monarchy, or a republic."

"A constitutional what-now?"

"Basically, I'll hand over the real power to an elected body of representatives. I'd be, like, the head of state, but actual power would rest with the people. Or whatever compromise the people find acceptable. Point is, I refuse to rule as an absolute monarch; it's too dangerous."

"That is…an amazingly coherent explanation for someone who's as drunk as we are."

"Right? Blame Katara. We talk about this a lot."

"You two talk about everything, don't you?"

"We do, we do."

"Still…what's this got to do with your whole, _chance for a normal life_ plan?"

"Simple: If the people decide to do away with the monarchy completely, then guess who gets to run off with his girlfriend to wherever the fuck he wants to go?"

"Wherever _she_ wants to go, more like."

"Heh…right? But hey, she's not here, I get to pretend I'm the one in charge."

"Hey, man, my lips are sealed."

"Bullshit. You've got the biggest mouth this side of the equator."

"Do not! Second-biggest, maybe, but Toph beats me by a mile!"

"I dunno…Toph is more _has no filter_ than _has a big mouth_. Girl can keep a secret if she wants to."

"True, true…hey, buddy?"

"Yeah?"

"The fuck were we even talking about?"

"Umm…good question. The fuck _were_ we talking about?"

"Something…right?"

"Maybe? Your guess is as good as mine."

"And my guess is worthless right now." He takes a drink, passes the bottle to me, and looks back over his shoulder. "Think we should head back yet?"

I look towards the house. Lamps are still burning in most of the windows, and we can hear the sound of drunken girl-talk coming from the living room. I shrug, turn back to the sea. "They seem to be having plenty of fun without us."

He nods, turns back around. "Yeah…"

I look at him for a few moments, rolling a question around in my head. "Sokka?"

"Hmm?"

"You alright?"

He makes a face, puffs slowly on a cigarette. "Yeah…I'm fine, more or less, at least."

I reach over, pat his shoulder. "What's bothering you, buddy?"

He shrugs, runs a hand over his scalp. "Well…I dunno."

I take a guess. "It's Suki, isn't it."

He chuckles. "That obvious, eh?"

"To anyone with a brain. What's up? Did…did things not go well at Kyoshi?"

He takes the bottle from me, chugs at _least_ three or four mouthfuls, wipes his mouth, and chugs a bit more before passing the bottle back to me. Finally, he says, "No, things didn't go well."

I nod, take a drink, turn my attention back to the horizon. "Katara had a feeling you guys were keeping something to yourselves."

"Yeah…we were…we are. Suki didn't want us to spoil everything, so she made Aang and I promise not to tell anyone, to let her tell the story when she was ready." He turns to me, smiles. "So, see, I _can_ keep a secret."

I laugh. "Yes, you can. Also, nice job at deflecting."

"Thanks!" He turns back to the sea, lets silence pass for a bit. "Still…I dunno…I'm more worried now than I was before, for some fucked up reason."

"Why?"

"Well…lately, before we came here, she was…she was _bad_, Zuko, like, _really bad_. And now? I mean…I don't think I've _ever_ seen her so happy, even back when we first met her. It's just…she's come _alive_, you know? Like a switch has been flipped. It's nice, it is, but I just can't help but worry myself over it."

I pat his back. "I understand. I really do."

He laughs, shakes his head. "I knew you would. This is why we're friends."

"Damn right. Still be my friend when I'm the Fire Lord for real?"

"Of course I will be! Why wouldn't I be? Gods, how cool would that be? _Hey, what was that, beautiful young lady, you've always wanted to go to a big ball, like they have in the fairy tales, but you can't, because you're not nobility or royalty? Well, as it happens…"_

I can't help but laugh at that. "So, you'd use your friendship with the ruler of an entire nation to get laid?"

"Fuck yeah! What else are friends for? And even if _you_ won't help me, there's a certain person who's closely related to me who will know where you sleep every night."

"You're ridiculous, Sokka, you know that? I don't know why I put up with you."

"Well, you put up with me because-"

I never find out why I put up with him. Before he can finish his sentence, the night is pierced by a shrill, unearthly scream. Sokka and I are instantly on our feet. Without having to think about it, we know that it came from the house. We drop everything, race back to the house as fast as we can. We burst in through the door, barrel past a confused Aang, standing in the hallway and rubbing sleep from his eyes. The sense of _déjà vu _is overwhelming. It's like we're racing up the stairs in Nagano again, desperate to get there before it's too late.

That time, we made it.

This time, we don't.

I find Katara on her knees, sobbing like a baby into her hands. I get down on the floor beside her. She buries her face in my chest, hysterical. I feel a cold emptiness spreading from my stomach. Even the faintest wisp of drunkenness is gone. I've never felt so sober in my life. Hot tears burn in my eyes.

_My scar aches…_

I don't look up. I don't have to. _I don't want to._ I don't need confirmation of what's hanging from the ceiling. Instead, I gather Katara in my arms and carry her out of the room, while Sokka, tears streaming down his face, cuts Suki down.

* * *

So, yeah, I'm just gonna leave this one here, and walk away, before I start hating myself. All I can say is, you guys had to know that Suki wasn't going to get a happy ending. No way was Azula going to let that happen.

If one of you guys un-follows over this, I totally understand. I feel pretty awful myself. But sometimes, the story goes where it needs to go, not where we want it to go.

In the next chapter, the aftermath, and the Gaang reaches a decision. Stay tuned…?


	75. Chapter 75

75. WE BURY SUKI AT NOON. It takes all morning for Sokka and I to dig the grave. Inside the house, Katara prepares the body for burial, while Toph talks a fire sage through Earth Kingdom burial rites and Aang puts together a coffin. Sokka and I end up having to help him with that; he's not very good with tools, and even if he was, he's crying too much to be of much use. When the coffin is finished, we wrap Suki in a shroud donated by the people of Ember Island, get dressed as nicely as possible, and carry the coffin to the grave. We don't speak as we walk. All five of us help. Even then, the coffin feels like the heaviest thing I've ever carried.

It's hard to see, as we walk. Tears flow freely from my eyes. Time, as it so often does, loses all meaning. Every step feels like the last step I'll ever take. My feet are lead weights, attached to iron poles that masquerade as my legs. My arms feel as solid as stone, my hands like slabs of marble, my fingers like lengths of wood. My mouth is dry, my tongue a leathery scrap of paper, scrapping around my teeth. My heart rests in a pool of ice-cold slime in my stomach. I don't want to go on. The world fades to nothingness, a figment of my imagination. It's like a dream, a nightmare that goes on and on and on. I have an overpowering urge to pinch myself, to wake myself up from this horrid reality. The sun is high in the sky, and yet I feel cold and alone. Sweat rolls down my back, even as my body shivers from the chill.

Several of my guards wait in the grave. We lower the coffin down to them, let them settle it before they clamber out and go to stay a respectful distance away. The fire sage stands at the head of the grave. We array ourselves around it, that empty, gaping hole in the earth, into which we've just laid our friend. The fire sage intones the words that Toph has taught him, reading off a piece of paper onto which he's scribbled the ritual. Later, one of my guards will tell me it's a beautiful service, that the fire sage, despite reading strange words from a cheat sheet provided by a blind teenage girl, does perfectly, gives it his all.

I don't know about all that, though. None of us do. None of us are aware of anything until the fire sage closes his book, takes a long, watery breath, and asks if any of the deceased's friends have anything to say.

Aang speaks first. His voice is quiet and cold.

"Suki was a woman who never had any reason to believe in me. I first met her on her island, among her sisters, living a quiet, peaceful life, separated from the world around them. She, of all the people I've met, never had any reason to believe in me, or even like me. During those three weeks, she saw me at my worst, vain, childish, unreliable. In return, her and her people showed me nothing but kindness and respect. In exchange, I did nothing but bring the war they had so carefully avoided to their very doorstep. And yet, she has always believed in me. She always told me I was a good boy, and that I was going to do great things someday. I will never be able to tell her how much that will continue to mean to me."

He reaches down, gathers a handful of dirt, and sprinkles it into the grave. Then he steps back from the edge, head bowed.

Toph is next. Her voice shakes with pain and heartache. She does nothing to hide the tears from her eyes. As per Earth Kingdom rituals, she has left her hair down and unkempt, and streaked dirt across her brow.

"I never got to know Suki very well, but I knew her well enough to like her. I…I had a bit of a crush on her. I thought she was beautiful and strong and smart, all the things I always wanted to be. She always put up with my jokes, even though, out of all of us, she had the least reason to do so, especially when I was trying to hit on her. She never expressed disgust or disapproval, even though, in our part of the world, such things are discouraged and frowned on. She was, from what I knew of her, a wonderful person. I'll never forget her."

She does as Aang does, sprinkles a handful of dirt into the grave, steps back from the edge, bows her head.

Like Toph, Katara has left her hair down and unkempt. The great, dark mass billows in the wind. As she speaks, tears well in her eyes, and she grips her mother's necklace firmly in her fingers.

"Like Toph, I never got to know Suki as well as I wanted to. I remember when I met her, thinking, _This is the kind of woman I want to be, strong, confidant, brave. _She was always kind to me, always compassionate, like the sister I never knew I wanted. Even though, like Aang, she saw me at my worst, bossy, pretentious, demanding, impatient, she never treated me badly, even though she had every right to, and when I revealed my new path in life to her, after we met for the second time, she was never anything but warm and supportive, even though, of all the people in the world, she had the least reason to be. She was, without a doubt, one the most genuinely _good_ people I will ever have the honor to meet." Her voice cracks. She closes her eyes, wipes the tears away. _"I'm sorry we couldn't help you, Suki. I hope you're with your sisters now."_

Dirt, thudding like soft rain on the lid of the coffin. Back from the edge, bow your head, next up, to voice your thoughts and your regrets and your pain.

I look down into the grave. My head spins. I feel the world shifting under my feet. The hole seems to grow as I watch, teeth springing out from the edges, a horrific mouth, reaching out for me. I close my eyes, shake the image away, bite back the tears, burning in my eyes. The place for tears is dead in my left eye, and yet I feel the tears there, buried deep, burning like the hottest fires in hell. I open my eyes, force myself to look down into the horror my family has wrought on the world.

_I resist the urge to touch my scar…_

"There's only one thing I can say here, and that's…thank you, Suki. Thank you for giving my uncle, my true father, in all the ways that count, back to me. You and I could live a thousand lifetimes, and I would never be able to repay that debt. You had every reason to take him from me, and no reason not to, and in doing so, showed that you're a better person than I could ever hope to be." Words catch in my throat, sharp, red-hot barbs in my flesh. I swallow nothing but dust, feel the pain well up my face and into my eyes. I reach up, wipe the dampness from my face. _"I'm so sorry, Suki. I'm sorry for what my family did to you, and I'm sorry I'm the only one here to say it."_

Dirt, falling into nothingness. I stare into the abyss, and the abyss watches me step away from it. Fingers slip between mine, a hand fastens itself to my arm, a dark-skinned girl molds herself into me. We hold each other, hold hard and fast, desperate to keep each other save from the nothingness before us.

Sokka stands, not moving, as if turned to stone. When he speaks, his voice sounds as if it's coming from far away.

_**"I love you, Suki."**_

That's all he says. He reaches down, out, dirt falls from his trembling fingertips, and then he's back, beside us, shoulders shaking up and down, _up and down_.

The fire sage raises his hands. Toph has taught us the words, and we say them together.

"_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, from the Earth we are born, and to the Earth we return. May the departed find in death that which hid from them in life, and may they know the peace that eludes us all, until the end. Amen."_

_Words, words, words…_

_**"Amen…"**_

I thank the fire sage, while Sokka and Aang strip down to their pants and take up two of the spades laid nearby. I dismiss my guards, who, for once, do not argue, merely bow and express their condolences before filtering quietly out of sight. I return to the grave, strip down to my trousers, take up the third and final spade. Together, the three of us begin slowly, methodically shoveling dirt into the grave. Katara and Toph watch, arms around each other, Toph's face buried in Katara's shoulder. In the Earth Kingdom, tradition demands that only the men work with the grave. For once, none of us feel like challenging old ways.

The sun is well on its way down below the horizon before it's done. Katara brings us all glasses of fire whiskey. We stand around the grave, now nothing more than a mound of black dirt in the gathering darkness. We raise our glasses. Our voices, in unison.

_"To Suki…"_

We drink. Toph gathers the glasses, makes a small dent in the dirt, places the glasses within it, covers them up. With that, it's over, but none of us move. We stay, still, unwilling to say goodbye.

"What happened?"

Toph's voice is quiet, barely more than a whisper, but we hear her loud as a bell at midnight. Aang runs a hand along his bare head, takes a deep, shaking breath, lets it out.

"When we got back to Kyoshi, there was nothing left. The entire island had been laid to waste, every single Kyoshi Warrior killed, their bodies left to rot in the sun. There was hardly anything left to bury beyond scattered bones."

"When?" Katara asks, a tiny voice from deep in my chest.

Sokka clenches his fists. "A week after she took Suki away. According to the few survivors we found hiding, half-stared in the woods, airships came and laid the island to waste, then a force of Raiders swept down and finished everyone off." He voice catches; he gets it back under control before he allows himself to continue. "Apparently, Azula didn't trust the garrison she left behind to do the job."

Silence, calm and still, like the sound of the world ending on a cold and empty night. The sun sinks towards the horizon, waves lap against the shore, and the very world seems to lean towards us, as if watching, waiting, curious to hear its fate.

"I'm going to kill your father, Zuko."

I look to Aang. His voice cuts through the brightly-lit darkness like a whip. His eyes are firmly fixed on the grave. He seems like he's far away.

"I'm sorry, Zuko, I'm sorry to say it. It goes against everything I've ever been taught, everything I've ever believed, but when your father finally crawls out of his hole and comes for me, he's not going to leave the place he finds me."

I nod. It feels like the only thing I can really do. Sokka's words hit me like a hammer.

_"No."_

Aang looks up at him, eyes wide. "What?"

Sokka shakes his head. His tightened fists tremble at his side.

"No, Aang, _no._ That's too easy for him, too kind, too merciful. He doesn't deserve to die, _he deserves to live_. He deserves to watch as the son he discarded takes his kingdom from him. He deserves to see how his own people turn against him. He deserves to look into the eyes of the sixteen-year-old boy who's going to beat him. More than that, he deserves to stand before his people, as they force him to answer for his crimes." Sokka looks up, right into Aang's eyes. "So no, don't kill him. Destroy him. _Humiliate him._ Make him see just how small he really is, just how little he actually means, in the grand scheme of the world. He's nothing more than a petty, vindictive, delusional tyrant. The last thing he deserves it to die at the hands of the Avatar." He looks away. "It's probably all he really wants, anyways."

Aang nods, his moving slow as a glacier, up, then down, before he answers.

"I can't promise anything, Sokka, but I'll try."

Sokka smiles a thin, vicious smile. "That's all I ask." He turns to me. "Can I ask you for a favor, then, Zuko?"

"Anything for you."

He nods. "I want to be there when you strike your father's head off."

I bow my head. "I wouldn't have you miss it for all the world."

He turns away. _"Good._" He wipes his eyes. "Now, if you guys don't object, I think I'll get drunk. At some point, I'll cry." He turns to face us all. "And then, we're going to end this fucking war, one way or another."

Toph sniffs. "One way or another."

Aang grinds his teeth. "One way or another."

Katara hugs me tighter. "One way or another."

_My scar aches…_

_ "One way or another."_

The last words I hear that night, I hear in pitch-black darkness. Katara's voice floats up to me, syllables whispered into my bare chest.

_"I'm going to kill your sister, Zuko."_

As I fall into an abyss of dreamless sleep, I bury my face in her hair, and whisper back.

_"Not if I kill her first."_

* * *

Christ, when I go for the feels, I go for the feels. It's like my girlfriend always says: I don't do anything by halves.

This…was actually a pretty painful pair of chapters for me, not least because I knew what was going to happen to Suki all the way back when Sokka and Zuko came upon her holding a sword to Iroh's throat. If anything, that made it worst, because, to be honest, Suki is probably my favorite character, in that she's the one I like the most. Don't get me wrong, I love Zuko and Katara, at least my versions of them, but especially in the show, where Suki is pretty much the only truly, one-hundred-percent fucking _decent_ person we meet in the whole three seasons. People like that are rare in this world. They're out there, but they're hard to find, and life is rarely kind to them. The world is full of people like the rest of us, flawed and bent and sometimes broken. Every once in a while, though, there's a person that has no hidden agendas, no deep, dark secrets. No, that person is just a _good fucking person._

Suki was always that kind of person, at least to me. No doubt she was that person to Azula, too. No wonder Azula went out of her way to destroy her.

In the next chapter, our final act begins. Zuko begins his march on the capital, and Ozai's final plan becomes clear. Stay tuned…please?


	76. Chapter 76

76. WHEN WE MARCH, WE HAVE TWO WEEKS UNTIL THE DAY OF THE COMET. We'll need every one of them to get to Miyako in time.

I send my armies fourth in three mighty columns, west-to-east. In the west, I place General Hattori, so far removed now from that day in Kagoshima, in command of twenty-thousand men, most mounted, moving in tandem with half my fleet, to sweep the western coast. In the center, I place Master Piandao in command of fifty-thousand men, to strike due-north in a broad front. His task is to secure the center of the realm, the breadbasket of the north, before my sister has a chance to lay it to waste.

In the east, though, is my largest army, seventy-thousand men, a _full court show_, as they say, rank-upon-serried-rank, a massive flood of scarlet and steel topped with fire emblems steeped in blue. We have everything, tanks, airships, war balloons. Fujita trails alongside out to sea. We follow the Royal Road, a wide, modern expanse of dark asphalt, stretching on to our destination. At the head of this army I ride myself. To my left, ride my uncle and Toph. Toph glares at the world before her, daring anyone to stand in her way. My uncle rides with a dot of black soot on his forehead, a sign of mourning for Suki. He says he won't wash it off until victory is ours.

To my right rides Katara. She is resplendent, glorious, the Fire Lady in all but name. She wears her armor, shined and polished, her hair in what is now her normal style, a combination of my nation and hers, the Fire Mistress crown resting on top. Her mother's necklace glimmers at her throat. The sword I've been teaching her to use rests at one hip, while a water skin rests at the other. She sits at every meeting, joins in every briefing, rides along the ranks beside me as the troops cheer our names. Fire blazes in her eyes, and every night at dinner, we call for the same toast:

_ For Suki…_

At the head of it all, though, is me. I wear the armor that only the Fire Lord is supposed to wear, and in my topknot rests the rests the crown that no longer feels like a burden. To me, it is now a honor, a duty, a sacred task given to me by the gods. After the war, my people may choose to take it from me, at which point I will gladly lay it down and walk away, eyes clear, no regrets, never looking back. Right now, though, it stays with me. It shines forth from my head, a golden beacon to the world, flashing the same message.

_Not all who wear this are monsters…_

_**At least one who wears this knows that life is not a game…**_

Before us stretches the road, unobstructed and unimpeded. No armies contest our advance. The only troops we see are ones that show themselves just long enough to tear my father's banners from their places and put up mine instead. The people hide behind locked doors and barred windows. There are no parades, no fanfares, no screaming crowds and flirting girls. The only eyes we see are filled with fear. I pay them no heed. None of us do. We are not here to save, to liberate, to free. No, we march for one thing, and one thing only.

_To end the madness…_

_**One way or another…**_

As the days slide by, the world around us changes. When we march, the sky is a soft, pale blue, like any other April day, going back to the birth of the world. With each day, though, the color changes. The blue bleeds from the world, changing first to a pale yellow, then a soft orange, then a blazing gold. Finally, as the second week dies, and we begin to march past more and more locked doors and barred windows, the sky is a deep, blushing red. We all know what it means.

_The comet is coming…_

_**My great-grandfather's comet is coming…**_

We can all feel it, the benders among us most of all. I can feel it in my skin, in my fingers, _in my blood_. Every day, I feel warmer, stronger, _bigger_. It's like the sun itself is blazing from within my veins, as if my heart beats with the force of a thousand, as if my blood races through my limbs at a thousand-miles-an-hour. I cease to feel worn and tired. My need to eat seems to grow less with every day. I feel more alert, faster, my brain clicking along more quickly than it ever has before. I start to understand how it was that, the last time around, my great-grandfather was able to convince himself, in the midst of this building heat, that he really could conquer the world. The building strength of the comet is almost intoxicating in its intensity. Once upon a time, the coming of the comet was known mostly for the absurd spike in Agni Kais that were declared and fought. Deep down, I hope that someday, it once again be known for nothing other than that.

_And ever onward, we march…_

On the third day out from our destination, my scouts bring in a small party of poorly-dressed civilians. Their poor state is not due to the quality of their clothes, which once were the finest and latest in fashion, but, rather, because the men themselves are dirty, battered, tired, and their clothes are torn and tattered. They look like they haven't slept for days, and great dark rings circle their eyes. They lean on each other as they struggle to bow to me. I leap off my komodo-rhino, rush to meet them. I recognize their leader right away, bow to him as Katara and my uncle rush up to join me.

"Lord Daisuke," I say, "I have to admit, it's a surprise to find the Lord Mayor on the road in such a state."

His face breaks into a tired smile, as if he's just heard the first good news he's ever heard in his life. Knowing how my father often treated him, I can almost believe that this is the case.

"Well, your Grace, I hope you won't mind if I admit that this is the last way I expected to see you return home."

I can't help but chuckle. "You have me there. What can I do for you, my lord?"

"First," he says, speaking out of a lifetime of ingrained courtesy, "might I say it's an honor to see you alive and well, as well as an honor to see both you, Lord Iroh, alive and well." He turns, bows to Katara. "And it is also an honor to finally meet the Lady Katara, about whom we've all heard so much."

Katara smiles, bows back. "Likewise, though, considering where you just came from, I can't imagine that you've heard many kind things about me."

He waves the comment aside. "Please, I've been around long enough to know baseless propaganda when I see it. Besides, I have my ways of getting the truth. If your father knew how many in his court had relatives marching in this army, he'd never sleep at night."

"Speaking of my father," I say, drawing his attention back to me, "what news do you have of him?"

Daisuke's face falls. The exhaustion, which he had so carefully banished from his face, returns full force, along with sorrow and pain. "It pains me to say it, your Grace, but your father has finally well and truly lost his mind."

Alarm bells go off in my head. In the midst of the gathering heat of the comet, my blood runs cold. "What do you mean?"

Daisuke takes out a dirty handkerchief, wipes his forehead and his neck. It really is incredibly hot. "Two days ago, your father gathered all the nobles and leading men who were left. There aren't that many, to be honest. Most are either off in the Earth Kingdom, in his own dungeons, or marching under your banner. He seems to think that those of us who are left are there only out of the utmost loyalty to him."

"Why were you still there?" Katara asks.

Daisuke smiles. "Because I have a sacred duty to my city, regardless of who the Fire Lord is. But this…this supersedes that duty. It's beyond that duty. If anything, it's a part of that duty."

"So," I say, trying to contain my impatience and remember the man's exhausted state, "what's the news?"

Daisuke swallows hard. "Your father has decided that the Fire Nation no longer matters. He has ordered that your sister be crowned on the Day of the Comet, while he himself will be proclaimed _Phoenix King_, if you can believe it."

The wheels turn in my head. My eyes fly wide, and my mouth drops open, even as my uncle says, "Surely you don't mean…"

Daisuke nods. "I'm afraid so. The so-called _Phoenix King_ believes that the power of the comet will give him the power to lay the whole world to waste, all that does not currently bow their heads to him. He plans to lead every airship he can get his hands on in some massive incendiary attack on the Earth Kingdom. He wants to burn every inch of it to ashes, no matter whether that inch belongs to him or his enemies. If you and your followers persist in your rebellion, then, when he's done, he'll burn you and yours, too."

Katara gasps, while Toph says, "And just what the fuck does he hope to accomplish with that?"

I turn to her. "Do you know the legend of the Phoenix?"

Toph shakes her head. "Can't say that I do."

"Right…well…basically, the gist of it is that, by Fire Nation lore, at least, the world will end in fire, and from the ashes will be born the mighty Phoenix, who will create the world anew, and rule over it as its king."

"So," Katara says, "in other words, your dad has decided that he's going to burn the world to the ground, and rule over what remains as…well…_king._"

"It appears so, my lady," Daisuke says.

I turn back to him. "When does he plan to do this?"

"On the Day of the Comet, when it's at its full power. He's already left for somewhere to the north, to prepare for the attack."

"Do you know where this place is?" my uncle asks.

Daisuke shakes his head. "I'm afraid not. That much, he wasn't willing to say. The point is, if my city was to have any _hope_ of being saved, I had to come to you _now_, rather than wait."

"Will the city resist?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I can't be sure. I've been making preparations for your arrival for some time, but now that I've left, I can't be sure if the people I had in place will still be there, or even alive, now that the city has been handed over to your sister. I'm afraid that the Royal Guard is still fiercely loyal, and the city garrison may stand and fight, if only out of fear. The very most I can promise you is that the people themselves won't stand against you at all."

"Will they rise up openly?" I ask.

Again, he shrugs. "I can't be sure. Everyone's utterly terrified of your sister. But, if everyone sees the battle going against her, well…who knows what will happen then." He reaches forward, takes my hand. "The point is, your Grace, _that you must hurry._ The fate of our people, my city, rests in your hands." He looks down, tears in his eyes. "The fate of my family as well. I…_I had to leave them behind._ The gods only know what's happened to them."

I pat his hand, give him my bravest smile. "Don't fear, my lord. We'll do everything in our power to bring this madness to an end as swiftly and as bloodlessly as possible." I turn to two of my guards. "Gentlemen, please see to Lord Daisuke and his party. Get them somewhere they can rest and recover."

Daisuke bows. "If it's all the same to you, your Grace, I'd rather come with you. I can rest when the battle is won and my city is safe."

I nod. "Very well." I turn back to the two guards. "In that case, gentlemen, I make you personally responsible for Lord Daisuke's safety, as well as that of his companions. Understand?"

The two men bow and chorus out, "Yes, your Grace."

I turn to my uncle. "Uncle?"

He nods. "Messengers?"

"The best and fastest riders in the army. About a dozen should do." I turn around, look for a face, find it. "Muto!"

Muto leaps off his mount. "Yes, your Grace?"

"I need you to ride to the shoreline, signal Admiral Fujita. I want him to send his fastest ship to the Earth Kingdom, and I want it sent yesterday. Tell him everything Lord Daisuke has told me today. Understood?"

Muto bows. "Understood, your Grace." Without another word, he leaps back into his saddle and digs his spurs into the komodo-rhino, riding off with a roar. By the time I turn back around, the summoned messengers have appeared. I give them all the information I've just heard, with orders for Piandao and Hattori to speed up their advance, with all possible speed. After the messengers repeat the orders back to me, I have each one given a bag of coins, in case they need to buy new mounts, and tell them to ride like the wind. They bow in unison, then race for their mounts. Within minutes, every single one is a speck, vanishing on the horizon. I'm not watching them, though. I'm already back in the saddle, and the column is marching on.

My uncle leans over. "And what are your orders, nephew?"

I grit my teeth. "The same as always: March forward, and end the war. One way or another, the city will be ours by nightfall on the Day of the Comet."

My uncle nods, an approving look on his face. "A fitting way to spend your twenty-third birthday."

I arch an eyebrow. "It _will_ be my twenty-third birthday, won't it?"

Toph scoffs. "You forgot your own fucking _birthday_, Sparky? Fucking hell…"

Beside me, Katara giggles. "You would, you goof."

I shoot her a bemused look. "Hush, you."

She giggles again, before a serious, hungry look takes over her face. She turns her gaze forward, down the road. "So, your sister's there?"

I nod. "Yes, it appears that she is."

Katara's gaze turns into a glare. _"Good. _Her and I have a lot of scores to settle."

I turn to the horizon. "So say we all."

We reach Miyako the night before my twenty-third birthday, the night before the Day of the Comet. We pitch camp in battle order. We spend the night sharpening our swords and saying our prayers.

In the morning, we will re-take our honor, our nation, our destiny, our future.

_In the morning, the madness will end…_

_**One way or another…**_

And here we are, guys. The time has arrived. Very soon, the dust will settle, and it'll all be over.

_One way or another..._

* * *

For all of you who have made it this far, well, the next few chapters are the ones that I started this project to write. In many ways, they're the part of the story that I mapped out before anything else. In fact, the entire saga you've just read exists solely for these few coming chapters. I was originally only going to write these, but then I became curious as to how we got here, and, well, a gazillion words later, here we are, where I always planned to be.

I know I've had fun getting here. I hope you have, too.

Fun Fact: Originally, _gazillion_ was _gajillion_, but Word says that _gajillion_ isn't a word, but _gazillion_ totally is, and since _gazillion_ is pretty close to _Godzilla_, for once, I took Word's word (heh) for it.

Thus, in the next chapter, our heroes prepare for battle, Azula and Zuko trade some words, and our favorite couple has something to say to each other. Stay tuned!


	77. Chapter 77

77. THE DAY OF THE COMET DAWNS BEFORE THE SUN EVEN HAS A CHANCE TO RISE. Katara and I step out of our tent to find the sky burning, a glowing palette of red and gold. The comet hangs high in the air, a massive ball of flame, casting the world the color of dried blood. I look down at my armored hand, flex it, feel the fire flowing through my veins. My scar pulses in time with the monster slicing through the sky.

A hand comes to rest on my shoulder. I turn, find Katara looking up at me. She's dressed in a suit of Southern Water Tribe armor, specially made for her and presented by Admiral Kuupik's men. Her mother's necklace flashes almost purple in the light of the comet. On the helmet she holds in the crook of her arm, the armorer has worked a form of the Fire Mistress crown. As she had explained to me the night before, she wanted to face her last day of war as she had faced the first, a woman of her people, but making sure that the world knew that that woman had changed forever.

I reach up, press my hand to her face. She leans her cheek into my palm, rests her own hand atop of mine. We stand there in the heat of the morning, the camp coming alive around us. Everywhere, the air is filled with the cacophony of an army preparing for battle. Tanks roar to life, komodo-rhinos grunt and paw at the ground, soldiers strap on swords and tighten the fittings of their armor. The camp is very quiet, almost still, a palpable hush, a sense of calm urgency pressing down upon us.

In the midst of it, is us, a quiet spot, the eye of the storm. The world swirls around us, leaving only her and I, together, just like it was always meant to be. I lean down, kiss her, just as she's leaning up to kiss me. Our lips meet, soft and warm, and it feels like the first time. Time falls away, tattered shreds of reality flying in spirals around us. My heart crawls up my throat, and a strange sense of foreboding fills my soul as we part and I look down into her eyes.

"Katara, there's something I have to tell you…"

She smiles, shifts her helmet from one arm to another, reaches up, brushes her fingertips along my scar.

"I know, Zuko, but not yet."

I smile. "And why the hell not?"

Her fingers travel up, threading their way along my hairline. "Because…because this isn't the end, this isn't going to be goodbye. We're going to come through this just fine, and when the sun rises tomorrow, and you and I are alive and well, _then_ you can say it."

I lean down, kiss her forehead. "Will you say it back?"

She giggles. "For one thing, that's a dumb question, because I say it every time I look at you, without having to use things as limited as _words._ And for another thing…who's to say you won't be the one saying it back?"

I sigh. "One of these days, I'm going to be first."

She taps a finger on the tip of my nose. "You keep thinking that, babe." She pulls away, shifts her helmet to her other arm, takes my free hand in hers. "Now, unless I'm mistaken, we have work to do."

I turn in the direction of the city. "Yes, we do."

We find my generals gathered on a small hill, in the center of my assembling army. To either side, the mass stretches, fire emblems on fields of gold snapping in the breeze, serried ranks sparkling pinpricks of fire in the light of the bleeding sky. My commanders bow as I approach, chorus, "Good morning, your Grace," and rise. There are no smiles. This is not the day for smiles.

_This is the day for endings…_

"Gentlemen," I say, "it would appear that the day of judgment is at hand."

My uncle nods. He looks magnificent in his armor. Going to war for a good cause has done him good, as he puts it. "I would have to agree, nephew."

I turn to face the city. The walls stretch off to either side, all the way from the left side of my vision down to the harbor at my right. The right flank of my army is anchored there. At sea, I can just barely make out my fleet moving into position. "So, uncle, what is the situation?"

He turns to face the city. "As far as we know, your sister intends to fight."

"That's no surprise," Katara says. "How many men does she have?"

"That she can rely on? The eight-thousand men of the Royal Guard that my brother has left her. At least, that's what Lord Daisuke has been able to tell us. Beyond that, there is the ten-thousand men of the regular city garrison, as well as the fifteen-thousand men of the city militia."

"So," I say, doing the math, "about thirty-three thousand men, the vast majority of whom will stop fighting if they see the battle going against my sister."

"Assuming they fight at all," my uncle says. "The city militia is, from what we can tell, very sympathetic to our cause. I'm afraid that Azula's name is dirt in Miyako. By that at it may, though…"

I close my eyes, finish his thought. "The Royal Guard will fight to the last."

My uncle nods. "They will feel they have no choice. They know they have no place in the new world that you represent, and I doubt that they want one." He sighs, shakes his head. "There are always die-hards, I'm afraid, no matter how vile the cause."

"Such is life. No one ever said it was fair." I imagine a grave, an abyss, closing in around a kind-hearted, good-natured woman, and shake the picture away. "But that's not the question. Will my sister come out to fight?"

My uncle shakes his head. "It doesn't look like she will do us that courtesy, nephew."

Katara makes a face. "So, we'll have to storm the city."

My uncle nods. "I'm afraid so."

I turn to the petite figure at my uncle's right, smile. "You hear that, Toph? Think you're up for the challenge?"

Toph gives a laugh that's more of a hungry growl, and that wouldn't be out of place coming from the throat of a rabid wolf. She looks the part, too, dressed in a made-to-order suit of Fire Nation armor that leaves the tops of her feet protected while leaving the bottom bare. "You better fucking believe I'm up for it. It's like I said last night: You get me within a hundred feet of those walls, and I'll give you your gods-damn breach."

My uncle sighs. "One of these days, young lady, we're going to have to have a discussion about your language."

Toph scoffs. "And one of these days, old man, we're going to have to have a discussion about your crazy-ass beard."

My uncle strokes the beard in question. "And on the day after _that_, I'm going to sit down and finally figure out how much of what you say about what you can see is the truth, and how much is just you bluffing."

Toph winks. "Dream on, old man." She turns back to me, a frightening look on her face. "So, we going stand around with our dicks in the wind all day, or are we going to fucking do this?"

I sigh. "Oh, Toph, no sense for the dramatic." I turn back to the city. "Still, no time like the present. Gentlemen?"

My generals stand to attention, chorus, "Your Grace."

"The time has come. The plan remains as it we decided last night: Get Lady Toph close enough to the walls for her to bend us a breach, then the Lady Katara and I will force said breach and take the city. Do your best to avoid unnecessary damage to the city, but don't let that interfere with your mission. One way or another, today will be the last of this wretched war." I turn back to the assembly. "Any questions?"

They shake their heads, chorus, "No, your Grace."

I nod. "Very well. Go to your commands, gentlemen, and spread the word." I pause, just long enough to slide my helm into place. I can't see it, but I know that the light of the comet turns the crown worked into the brow the color of dragon's blood, gold and scarlet, sparkling like fire in the night.

"And what is the word, nephew?" my uncle asks.

"Simple, gentlemen. The word is Ursa."

Katara dons her helm. "The word is Kya."

Toph slides her helm into place. "The word is Lobsang."

My uncle smiles from behind his visor. "The word is Lu Ten."

Katara, Toph and I look to each other. Together, we say, _"The word is Suki."_

We mount up, take up our reins. I nod as my generals mount up as well.

"The word, gentlemen, is that this madness ends today. _One way or another._" I turn back to the city. I can't help but try to pick up my sister among the tiny black figures dashing back-and-forth along the walls.

_A little girl, playing with the turtle-ducks…_

_ What happened to you?_

_ I deserve to know, before I kill you…_

"Tell each man to think, in his heart, of the name of someone they have lost to this war, and let that be their word. And when the horn blows, we attack."

There was nothing to do after that. Nothing to do, but wait for the word.

* * *

Shit be gettin' real, kids. I hope you're ready to take this ride with me. I've been waiting for this for a fucking _month_, now, and I intend to go down guns blazing.

A random historical note, because I'm a dork like that: You really would be amazed at the causes that have had die-hards fighting to the bitter end. There were French fascists fighting in the ruins of the Reichstag, right up until the Soviets drove bayonets through their throats. Think about that: Some of the last surviving defenders of the symbol of Nazi oppression, long after the everyone knew the war was lost, _were fucking French fascists who had __**volunteered**__ to serve in Hitler's army._ That's a pretty sobering though, when you think about it. Why do I tell you this? Because I want you to have an idea of the kind of guys in Ozai's Royal Guard who are about to try to defend Azula from the Gaang's wrath. The question is not whether they will succeed; they won't. I think it's pretty clear that the war is all but over. The question is what kind of price they will exact before the end.

Also, yes, I'm cock-teasing you guys on Katara and Zuko finally actually _saying_ they love each other. For the record, they totally do, and they know it, but they just haven't _said _it yet, just, you know, showed it to each other every day they've been together. Trust and believe in me, it'll be worth the wait.

In the next chapter, we switch to a bit of a different point-of-view, to see what Ozai is up to, and what he finds waiting for him when he makes it to the Earth Kingdom. Stay tuned!

_**For Suki!**_


	78. Chapter 78

78. MY FATHER'S FLEET TOOK OFF THE MORNING OF THE DAY THAT I ARRIVED BEFORE MIYAKO. He had with him about two-thousand of the Royal Guard, which he spread throughout the fleet he had assembled, mostly to keep the crews in line. He may have been a megalomaniac and borderline insane, but he was still Ozai, deep down inside, and knew enough by now not to blindly trust in the loyalty of the men under his command. He took off at dawn, at the head of a fleet of about ten airships, each one under the command of a man my father had picked himself. He seemed to have covered every base, dotted every _i, _crossed every _t._ This was his master stroke, his final roll of the dice, the move he had been planning since the day he took the throne. In some ways, I think he always knew that the war as his father and grandfather had waged it was a lost cause. The world really was just too big for one nation to simply conquer and rule. In order to reign supreme, I can't help but think that my father decided, long ago, that the herd would have to be culled.

To him, it was simply math. We really should've seen it coming.

The ships were disappearing into the horizon when General Hattori's vanguard came upon the base. I received word of this not a half-hour before I gave the order to advance on the city walls. General Hattori was deeply distraught, especially since my father had made sure to render unusable any airship that was left behind, to prevent pursuit, and Hattori had sent his airships on a wide arc in an attempt to head my father off. None of Hattori's efforts came to anything, though. As I said, he was devastated, which was why I took the time to write him back, telling him not to worry, to continue on with his secondary mission, which was securing the far north.

My father made good time across the water, pushing the airships for all that they were worth. When the Earth Kingdom came into sight at dawn on the Day of the Comet, no doubt he felt a degree of jubilation that no sane human being can ever truly comprehend. I sometimes wonder what he thought. Did he laugh? Did he cry? Did he do a little jig in his quarters when one of his guards brought him the news? Whatever he did, not ten minutes later, he was out on a specially built platform, jutting out from the front of the ship. Like the madman that he was, he was stripped to the waist. I wonder if he bothered with gathering moves? No doubt he didn't. He had no time for such games, not on such a day.

I do have to wonder when he began to suspect that something was wrong. Was it when he noticed that none of the other ships' platform had his hand-picked firebenders on them? Was it when the outer ships began to veer off course? Or was it even earlier, when the fleet stopped to rest the engines on a small island in the middle of the sea? Did he see the dark forms dressed in blue armor sneaking onto the ships? Did he sense the lowly crewmembers opening back doors for them? Did he feel the hate and fury radiating off a thin young man, all sinewy muscle, with what would have, to my father, been a ridiculous-looking pony tail?

_Did he have any idea?_

Or did he just brush it all off, not able to imagine that anything could go wrong with his master plan?

The point is that, at the end of the day, my father did not pick his airship commanders as well as he had thought. He had picked men who he thought would be most elated with the idea of burning the Earth Kingdom to the ground. Each man had lost multiple sons and family members in the war, and each man whooped with joy when they found out about the plan. Each man then quietly, calmly, began plotting mutiny.

They didn't plan to pick up the Water Tribe warriors on that island, though. That was just a happy bonus.

Whatever the case may be, by the time my father stepped out on the platform, his final masterstroke was already in tatters. Seven of the ten ships were in the hands of the mutineers, two more were already falling towards the sea, crippled by the struggles on board, and on the final one, the one my father stood on, looking out at the world beneath him, no doubt imagining the moment when he would rise above it like the mythical Phoenix, a door was opening, somewhere behind him. He turned, no doubt about to ask what was going on with the other ships, no doubt ready to make someone pay.

What he found, instead, was Sokka, his armor covered in blood, leveling his sword and screaming a name.

_For Suki!_

For whatever reason, my father didn't stand and fight. I have no idea why, and he certainly never bothered to elaborate. Maybe, in that moment, he finally jumped the final hurdle into madness. Maybe, right then, he became convinced that he really _was_ the Phoenix, and that all he had to do was leap off that platform to rise from the ashes. Maybe, just maybe, he decided that none of this was worth his time, that he had a job to do, and that a bender as great as himself could do it all alone. Any of these possibilities, knowing my father, are equally likely, but I like to believe another one.

_I like to believe that maybe, just maybe, there at the end, my father showed what he really was, all along…_

_**A coward…**_

Whatever the case, my father looked back over his shoulder, then turned to the charging warrior, at the head of a mob of angry airship crewmembers and Water Tribe warriors, then back to the approaching Earth Kingdom, burst into hysterical laughter, and leaped off the platform. He didn't die, of course; he was too good a bender for that. He used the kind of firebending only a few can ever attain, even when Sozin's Comet blazes in the sky, and _flew_ off to the Earth Kingdom. What he intended to do when he got there, we'll never know.

What we do know is that he flew into a field of stone pillars, a strange, unnatural-looking natural formation. We know he stopped on one of these pillars, no doubt to gather his breath. We know he sensed something, above and behind up him, on another pillar, just beyond his sight. We know he turned, slowly, as if sensing what was coming.

We don't know if he knew what the blue glow was. We don't know if he knew what it meant. But it doesn't matter, because we know.

_It meant that he was beaten._

* * *

Fuck the author's note. Let's keep rolling, kids!

In the next chapter, the army advances, Toph works her magic, and a brother and a sister finally come face-to-face. Stay tuned!


	79. Chapter 79

79. WE SOUND THE ADVANCE AROUND THE SAME TIME AS MY FATHER'S MASTER PLAN IS FALLING TO PIECES. I signal my uncle, who nods a young man carrying a great warhorn. The man puts the horn to his lips, takes a deep breath, and the clarion call echoes across the field. It carries far and wide, picked up and repeated by all the other horns scattered through the ranks. Seventy-thousand throats shout my name, a thunderous call that rattles my very bones, spears are beat against the ground, swords are slammed onto the shells of tanks, armored fists are thumped into armored chests, and with that, we advance.

At sea, my ships begin lobbing fireballs into the city. On land, fireballs slam against the city walls. Fireballs roar back, their size enhanced by the comet and by fear and by desperation. Get walls of fire slice through my men. They fall by the dozens, screaming in fear and pain. Arrows blot out the sky in both directions. The wounded begin filtering back, burned and charred and riddled with arrows. Everywhere is the cacophony of battle.

_It sounds like the bowels of hell…_

By the time the battle is truly joined, I am with my personal guard, two-thousand men, culled from those who have been with me the longest. Muto is there, and many of the rest who marched with us from Shu Jing. There are others, too, men who joined the procession into Kagoshima, men who stormed Azula's camp with me, my finest warriors, an armored ball of tension and anxiety. We watch, and we wait, while beside me, as always, today and forevermore, is Katara, holding my hand, squeezing it for all she's worth, her face no doubt as pale and pained as mine.

The fighting goes on for a good half-hour, my tanks ramming the walls, my men hurling fireballs at the gates, scaling ladders knocked down almost as soon as they're put in place. My sister doesn't have many men devoted to her cause, but she has just enough to make my army pay. I count every fallen man, count them and hold them close to my heart, while over our heads, the sky continues to bleed.

And then…

_And then…_

_**THERE!**_

A random section of wall begins to shimmer and shake. Before our very eyes, the earth splits asunder, opening a gash at least a hundred-feet-wide. The gash opens, then, just as quickly, slams shut, like a door, only to open and close three more times, until all that remains in that hundred-foot space is a pile of rubble and my sister's shattered dreams. The chant goes up, my men screaming at the tops of their lungs.

_Toph! Toph! Toph! __**TOPH!**_

I squeeze Katara's hand one more time, rise, draw my sword, level it at the gap. I scream, my voice shredding in my throat.

_**CHARGE!**_

We charge. We fly like the wind, as fast as our legs will take us. We fly past scattered, burned, charred bodies. Fireballs land in our midst. We ignore them. Beside me, Katara runs, her own sword raised high, her tribal war cry shrill and piercing in her throat. My men scream all around me.

_Almost there…_

We run, run, _run!_

_Almost there…_

The army cheers us as we pass. The fire is lessening from the city walls. Scaling ladders aren't being thrown down anymore. Somewhere, a gate is blasted open.

_**ALMOST THERE…**_

_We're through…_

We crash right into a waiting body of Royal Guard. The bloodiest, most vicious Agni Kai in history breaks out, right there. For a few moments, my world is a swirling tangle of blood, screams, roars, men fighting and dying and burning each other. I gut one man, burn another, slice the head off a third. I hear someone shout, _Zuko! Duck!_ I fall to the ground, turn to see a man falling, caught halfway through a bending form by an ice spike through his skull. I stand, find Katara smiling at me, her armor spattered with blood, her sword dripping with it.

"Thanks," I say.

"You're welcome." She winks. "Remember, you have one job: _Don't die_. We have something to confess to each other in the morning."

I nod. "I won't forget."

And with that, we dive back into the fray.

Time begins to slip away again, like it always does. The world closes in on me, on her, _on us_. My memories of the battle are just that, flashes of Katara and I, swirling through the Guardsmen trying to stop us. It's just her and me, there, in the eye of the storm, back-to-back, side-by-side…

_Us against the world…_

The enemy begins to falter. _The enemy begins to break._ My army is pouring over the walls, through the walls. After the initial breach, Toph went along the walls, opened up five more, the first three because that was her mission, the other two because she felt like it. The gates have been blasted open. Tanks rattle and rumble down the streets. For every fireball our enemy fires at us, ten more fly back.

_It's over…_

_**We won…**_

Before me, at the top of the city, stands the palace. I grab Katara's hand, _or maybe she grabs mine, it doesn't matter._ We race, hand-in-hand, through the streets. Anyone who stands in our way dies.

_Not many do…_

_**Not many are left…**_

We race far ahead of my troops. We have one task, one goal.

_Find Azula…_

_ Stop Azula…_

_**Make Azula pay…**_

_** Make Azula pay before she make someone else pay…**_

_We're going up the hill…_

_ A couple of guards try to stop us…_

_**They don't stand a chance…**_

_We're through the gates…_

_**They've been left open…**_

_We're in the courtyard…_

_**It's deserted…**_

_I don't know what's going on…_

_**What does she have planned now…**_

_We running up the steps…_

_**Where is everyone…**_

_We're through the front doors…_

_**No one home…**_

_We spin and we swirl around as we run…_

_**She could be anywhere…**_

_We hear her laughter before we find her…_

_**We follow it to her…**_

In the end, I shouldn't be surprised to find her here. Behind the main palace is a long, rectangular courtyard. Its stated purpose is for smaller official gatherings, like minor religious ceremonies and the like. As often as not, though, it is something of an unofficial Agni Kai ground. It is, naturally, Azula's favorite place to be. We find her there, standing in the center, laughing hysterically. We skid to a stop at the edge of the open ground. I look around, see nobody. The space is ringed by the rest of the palace, boxed in by low porticoes studded with pillars supporting the roofs. Under those roofs run channels full of water, covered by grates, an addition made when this area began to be used more often for Agni Kais. Katara and I step forward, swords out, eyes wary.

_We stay very close to each other…_

My sister is a mess. She is wearing a long cloak, like some sort of villain out of a fairy tale. Her hair is askew, sticking out in all possible directions. Her golden eyes dance with madness, madness and fire. I try to look in those eyes, to see that little girl I used to know, and all I see…

_All I see…_

_**Is darkness…**_

I look to her feet. I stop, sigh. Around her is a pile of bodies, charred and sliced to pieces. I look back to her, see that she's covered in blood. My eyes narrow.

"What did you _do_, Azula?"

She giggles. _Fucking __**giggles**_.

"Oh, Zu-Zu, do you really have to ask?" She kicks one of the bodies before her. "These…_learned gentlemen,_ you want to know what they did? They came to me, told me that your army was over the walls, that it was all over, that I should surrender. Can you believe that?" Fire flashes from her mouth and her nostrils as she screams, _**"Can you believe that they tried to tell me that?!"**_

I take a deep breath. "They're right, Azula." I take a slow, calm step forward. "It's over."

Her eyes fly wide, as big as saucers. "You really think so, Zu-Zu?" Her voice gives me pause. It's like that little girl is back again, for just a moment, and I look in her eyes and realize that she's sincerely _asking me_ that question.

I nod. "I do, Azula, I really do."

She blinks, once, twice, and then the little girl is gone, dragged kicking and screaming back to wherever Azula's inner demons keep her, and fire is spouting from her mouth as she screams, _**"Well, you fucking would, wouldn't you?! You always think it's over! That's why you're weak!"**_

Katara steps forward beside me, moving in unison with me. "And yet, who's the one who won the battle today?"

Azula's face falls. The little girl is back. "Wait…you mean they weren't lying to me?"

Katara shakes her head. "No, they weren't. Our army really will be here any minute."

Azula looks down, fucking _tears_ in her eyes. "Oh…_I thought they were lying to me…_" She sniffs. "Everyone lies to me, know you, all the time. They tell me mother's dead, but I hear her in my head every night. They tell me grandfather's dead, but I talk to him, too…" She looks up at me. "They told me you were dead, too, or that you were far away, but you were always there in my room, talking to me, too."

I try to control my beating heart, without much success. "I know, Azula, I know they were lying to you, but I'm not lying now. It's over. Just…put down the sword, and come with me."

She looks down on the bodies, tears streaming down her eyes. She sniffs, blinks, and then the madness takes over her body again. It's like that, a full-body event. She goes from loose, arms and limbs hanging, sagging, and then, suddenly, _like __**that**_, she's curled in on herself, rocking from side-to-side like a drunk, screaming, blue fire spouting from her mouth and her nose.

_**"Well, it doesn't fucking matter! I'm not giving up! Never! You can't take this away from me!" **_Her hands go to the Fire Lord crown in her hair. _**"It's mine, you hear me?! MINE!"**_

I shake my head. "You know it's not, Azula. It doesn't belong to you."

_**"But Daddy GAVE it to me! He gave it to ME! He promised no one could take it away from ME!"**_

"It wasn't his to give, Azula, and you know it."

_**"I don't care! IT'S MINE!"**_

I look down at the ground, my fist tightly clenched on my sword.

"Don't make me do this, Azula…"

She giggles. "Oh, I'll make you do something, alright."

I hear the threat in her voice. I look up.

_It's coming…_

_ I always knew it was…_

"Azula, don't."

She giggles. She can't _stop_ giggling, even as tears that I can't help but feel are _real_ pour from her eyes.

"Oh, you know what I'm going to say, don't you, Zu-Zu?"

Katara looks to me, eyes full of fear. "What's she saying, Zuko?"

"It doesn't matter. If we hit her at the right moment, it will never matter, and it'll all be over."

Katara nods. She drops her sword, falls back into a bending stance. "Got it."

I turn back to Azula. I drop my sword. I begin to take position. "Azula, don't say it."

"Oh," she cackles, eyes full of glee and fear, "I'm going to fucking say it, Zu-Zu."

"Fine. Be that way." I whisper to Katara, "On three, everything you've got. It's our only chance."

She nods. "Okay," she whispers back.

We whisper it together.

_One…_

_ Two…_

_**"I challenge you to an Agni Kai!"**_

I stop.

_Damn you, Azula…_

_ Gods __**damn**__ you…_

Katara drops her bending stance, turns to me, shoulders slumped.

"You can't refuse, can you?"

I shake my head.

"No, I can't."

Azula is in hysterics. I can't tell if she's laughing or crying.

_**"Well, Zu-Zu, what do you say?!"**_

I sigh. I take off my helmet, let it roll to the ground.

_"I accept."_

* * *

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is where I leave you tonight, because I'm a mean bastard, and also because it's Cuddle Time. Don't worry; we'll all be together tomorrow, for the part that we've always been waiting for.

Because I'm crazy, I actually considered cutting the Agni Kai out, but you know what? Fuck it. It's too awesome to pass up. Plus, there's a moment at the end that I basically started this whole project to write. So, you're going to get the epic Agni Kai you've always dreamed of, as well as the ending that I always dreamed of.

_I hope you like it._

Also, why can't Zuko refuse the Agni Kai? Because, by Fire Nation law, if there are two claimants to the throne, then, if one challenges the other to an Agni Kai and the other refuses, then the one who refuses automatically surrenders their claim to the throne. There are just enough people on the fence about Zuko's little rebellion, especially in the north, that he can't risk having that kind of black mark on his legitimacy hanging around. If it ever got out that Azula had challenged him to an Agni Kai, and he had declined, it would cause major problems. Plus, Zuko's Zuko, and he would want to do this as legally and honorably as possible.

And even more plus, he knows that, no matter what happens to him, Katara will finish his crazy-ass sister off.

In the next chapter, the Agni Kai, and then the moment we've all been waiting for. Stay tuned!


	80. Chapter 80

80. "SO, WHAT HAPPENS NOW?"

Katara and I are at one end of the long dirt rectangle, while Azula rants and raves around at the other end, all alone. We can't really hear what she's saying, and to be honest, we don't care. It doesn't seem to matter, no matter how involved the conversation my sister seems to be having is. We're too busy, anyways, trying to get my armor off as fast as possible. There's really no time to lose.

"Now," I say, tossing my breastplate to the ground, "we fight."

"To the death?" she asks.

I nod, face grim. "To the death."

She sighs. "As simple as that?"

I reach down, begin removing my leg greaves. "As simple as that, I'm afraid."

She crouches down to help me. Her hands tremble. I'm surprised mine aren't, given how fast my heart is thudding away in my stomach. "Why are we removing all your armor?"

I toss the left greave away, move to the right one, only to find Katara has beaten me to it. "Because, you're not supposed to have any advantages in an Agni Kai. The whole point is that it's a contest of firebending, pure will fighting pure will. If you go in with a full suit of armor, it kind of defeats the purpose."

She nods, holding the greave in her hand. "I don't see her removing _her_ armor."

I look back, see that my sister is still fully occupied in whatever world she currently inhabits. "Yeah…it's not an ironclad _law_, unfortunately, more a combination of tradition and courtesy." I take a deep breath, look up at the bleeding sky. "Besides, with the degree of firebending we'll be hurling around in a few moments, the presence or absence of armor won't make much of a difference. If anything, it gives me an advantage, because I will be able to move more freely."

She nods, begins nervously fiddling with the loose straps on the greave. "Right…anything else I need to know?"

I rise, pop my back, flex my fingers and my arms. "Yeah. You're the official witness, because you were present when the challenge was offered and accepted."

She rises with me. "Which means I have to stay and watch."

"Yeah…_watch _being the key word. You have to stay off the fighting ground, no matter what happens, until it's over."

She sighs. "Doing nothing, I take it?"

I nod. "Doing nothing."

She smiles at me, thinly, bravely. "I don't like doing nothing."

I reach up, brush some hair from her face. "I know."

She looks over to where Azula is, still ranting and raving at something no one will ever be able to see. "Look, Zuko…I know, last night, you told me it might come to this, but…are you sure there's no other way?"

I shake my head. "Not that she's said the words. In a situation like this, once the challenge has been thrown down, it can't be rejected." I look down to the ground, struggle for words. "Hey…just…promise me you'll be careful?"

She arches an eyebrow. "Wait, you're telling _me_ to be careful? Aren't you the one about to engage in a medieval _duel to the death?_"

"Heh…yeah…but, with us being as powerful as we are, and the comet at full force, I have no idea how crazy this will get. You have to stay and watch, but…just, watch out for yourself, too, okay? Try not to get yourself hurt, okay?"

She nods, fear in her eyes. "Alright…the same goes for you, too, you hear me?"

I smile, lean down, kiss her forehead. "Don't worry, I got this."

She smiles back. "I know." She tosses the greave in her hands aside, envelops me in the tightest hug she's ever given me. "Just…make sure you don't do anything stupid, alright? We have a date in the morning."

I nuzzle the top of her head. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." We hold each other for a few moments more, kiss in a way we've never kissed before, and then we pull apart. I strip off my shirt, toss it to her. "Here, do me a favor and hold on to this. I want that one back."

She balls the shirt up in her fists, holds it to her chest. "Fat chance. And this better not be the last time I get to see this sight, alright?"

I wink. "No worries."

With that, Katara steps back off dueling ground. She leans against one of the pillars, and watches me walk away.

I stop in the traditional starting position, a spot about a quarter of the way down the length of the rectangle, midway between each side. Everything about an Agni Kai is tradition. Tradition dictates how far apart you're supposed to be. Tradition dictates how you should dress, what you should wear, what times of day are the most auspicious for a fight. Tradition dictates so many things, but tradition means little today. I watch, and I wait, while Azula wraps up whatever conversation she's having. All of a sudden, she turns, eyes wide, as if unsure of who I am or what I'm doing here. Her eyes narrow as she steps forward.

_I can't help but wonder where she is…_

_ Is she even here?_

"Ready, _**brother?!**_"

I inhale. I exhale. I take the first form, hands out, facing sideways, one foot firmly in front of the other.

_My scar doesn't ache…_

"Ready when you are, sister."

She giggles. She reaches to her neck, and, in a great, dramatic flourish, unsnaps the cloak from around her neck and tosses it aside.

"You know, I really am sorry it has to end this way…"

I close my eyes. _"No, you're not."_

I open my eyes to find her staring, slack-jawed, wide eyes full of pain and sorrow.

"Wait…you don't actually think I _want_ to kill you, do you…?"

Her lip quivers as she speaks, and tears well up in her eyes. All I can do is sigh.

_"I really don't know anymore, Azula."_

She giggles.

_"Yeah, me, neither, Zu-Zu. Doesn't matter, I suppose…"_

I shake my head.

_"No, it doesn't."_

There's nothing more to say. Even she seems to know that. I wonder, then, if her voices go silent for a moment. My mind wanders, in those few moments, before she moves. How long have the voices been in her mind? Were they always there, or did my father's madness put them there? She always used to say such strange things, when we were children. Strange, unnatural, _bizarre._ Was she always like this? Was this horrid, slithering _thing_ I sense wrapped around her body always there?

_Or did she make it herself?_

_ Like she said, it probably doesn't matter anymore._

_ If it ever did…_

And then she's spinning around, and when she faces me again, she's sending forth a massive blast of bright blue flame. I make a small leap into the air, and when I land, I stomp one more step forward, bringing my hands together into a massive clap. Golden-red flame pours from my fingertips, meets in the middle, and roars forth. The flames meet in the center of the field, incinerating the bodies that we had no choice but to leave there. The flames meet, turn into a massive, towering wall of flame, blue against gold. The flames die, as suddenly as they were born, and my sister is twirling through the air, kicking bright blue flame from her feet every time she lands. I twirl through the air back, kicking the flames away. We advance towards each other, and, just like that…

_The battle is joined…_

_ I turn my brain off…_

_ I become a creature of habit, pure instinct…_

_ Move…_

_ Parry…_

_ Deflect…_

_**Fire…**_

_Repeat…_

_ Blue flames, dissipating into bale wisps around orbs of gold…_

_ Golden flames, vanishing into masses of blue…_

_ Fire…_

_ Fire…_

_**Move…**_

_** Deflect…**_

_** ATTACK!**_

_** DEFEND!**_

We begin to move in unison for a few moments. We each plant our feet in the ground, punch out our fists, fire massive jets of flame at each other. The flames meet, curl and bend and swirl into and around each other, slide to the sides. The blue wall to my side is a good foot or two taller than I am.

_All around us, the palace is burning…_

_ Somewhere, at the edge of my awareness, thunder rumbles…_

_ The battle…?_

_ I don't know…_

_ I don't have __**time**__ to know…_

When the jets of flame curl off into nothingness, I'm not surprised to see my sister standing at the end of the field, unhurt. She seems stunned to see me, though. She looks wildly about, at the flames beginning to spring to life all around us, at the palace beginning to burn. She's breathing hard, chest and shoulders heaving, her hair as wild as her eyes, plastered to her face with sweat. I look into her eyes, and that's when I see it.

_I've won…_

_ It's only a matter of time…_

_ Do you see it, too, Azula?_

If she does, she gives no indication. She screams into the air, blue flame shooting from her mouth. She stomps her feet like a child throwing a tantrum, screams, _"I don't care what you think, __**it's not over until I say it's over!"**_ at someone only she can see. Then she's flying into the air, a massive arc of flame swinging up behind her. She lands, smashing the whip into the ground. It flies towards me. This, I know, is her favorite move. It's never failed to win before.

_I close my eyes…_

_ I spin around…_

_ I face the front…_

_ I clasp my hands, spread my arms, fling my hands wide…_

I open my eyes. Before me, the fist of flame splits like the sea, curls off into smoke and tatters and nothingness. I look up at my sister. Her eyes are wide.

_There's fear there now…_

I can't help but wonder what she's seeing. Does she still remember the battle on the isthmus?

_I hope she does…_

I sigh.

_My turn now…_

I slam my fist into the ground. A massive tail of flame springs up, rolls forward, as bright as the sun. Azula leaps into the air, jets of flame springing from her feet, dodging the attack by inches. Smoke wafts from the tips of her hair as she roars out of the way. She starts flying towards me. From her throat comes a scream no human being should ever be able to produce.

_On her face is painted the fires of hell…_

She hurls her fists out before her, punching the air, each thrust another ball of flame. I hurl myself into the air, twirling and spinning, destroying every one. I land, press my hands together, bring them to the ground just as I land. She narrowly avoids the resulting flames, swinging around me in a wide circle. She fires at every opportunity, and I deflect at every opportunity, and I fire at every opportunity. It may not look like it, but she's on the defensive now. I am the one dictating the course of events. She may be flying around me, but it is my walls she is trying to pierce, my attacks she is desperate to avoid. All around me, blue and golden flames crash together. It is awe-inspiring, glorious…

_Terrifying…_

_ Is this really the world you dreamed of, father?_

_ If so, you're more of a fool than I thought possible…_

_ This is no world…_

_**This is death…**_

She's distracted, distraught. I can't tell if she's laughing, or crying, or both. She's screaming into the air, again and again, one word: _**"No!"**_ I close my ears to her anguish, watch her roar off down the field, start to arc around for another pass.

_I smile…_

_**I have her…**_

I lean down, place my hand flat on the ground. I spin around the pivot of my arm, kicking my legs in the air. From my feet shoots forth three lines of flame, at different heights, each one slightly behind the other. As I hoped, my sister dodges the first, high one, ducks under the second, middle one, and then has her legs cut out from under her by the third. For a moment, a brief, terrifying moment, I'm filled with regret.

_Only the first two would've been able to hurt her…_

I shake my head, clear the thought away. She's gone flying, no control now, no flames. She flies through the air, hits the ground with a force that makes me wince, rolls across the dirt. When she rises, she can barely stand. _She can barely breathe. _Her whole body heaves and shakes. Her armor is covered in dust, her hair caked in it. Tears cut furrows through the grime smeared on her face. Her hair hands in singed tatters from her head, stray strands plastered to her skin with sweat and dirt and dust. She heaves a great, painful sob, holds her hands to her stomach.

_She's hurt…_

_**Time to end this…**_

I start to walk forward, my hand out.

"Azula, please, just stop. Don't make me do this."

She sobs, shakes her head violently, dust and ash flying from her hair.

_"No, Zu-Zu, don't you see? It's too late…"_

I shake my head. "Maybe, but it's not too late for you stop hurting people."

She giggles. "What, you think I've _hurt_ people? Hurt _you?"_

I grit my teeth. I begin to gather energy. "You have no idea how much you've hurt me."

More giggles. _"Oh, Zu-Zu, you have no __**idea**__ how much I can hurt you!"_

I sense the lightning before I see it. It's supposed to be impossible to gather and fire so quickly, but then again, she's Azula, isn't she? The prodigy. _Daddy's perfect little Angel of __**Death.**_ And today, _today is the Day of the Comet._ And as I feel the electricity shimmer and thrum in the air, I'm confused. I begin to drop back into the redirection stance. All I can think is, _Fine, Azula, you want to end it this way? __**You've got it.**_ I watch her eyes, her cold, dead, lifeless eyes, and see nothing there but monsters slithering in the darkness.

_And then…_

_ I see…_

_**Her eyes shift…**_

_** No.**_

_The lightning flies…_

_**Too fast…**_

_It flies to my left…_

_**No…**_

_I run towards it…_

_**No…**_

_Almost there…_

_**No…**_

_I can do this…_

_**No…**_

_I hurl myself through the air…_

_ Somewhere, a voice screams, "Zuko!"_

_ I feel it…_

_ A fist in my heart…_

_ A blade in my chest…_

_**I'm falling…**_

_My nerves crackle and pop…_

_ My skin…_

_ My heart…_

_ My soul…_

_**Pain…**_

I hit the ground with a thumb. My shoulder pops with a _crack._ Someone's screaming my name. I don't know what's going on. I don't know what's happening. The world spins, turns red, bleeds into darkness.

_I fall…_

That's all I remember.

* * *

I really hope that was intense for you as it was for me. Pretty much my favorite scene in the show was the Agni Kai between Zuko and Azula. I really hope that I've done it justice here today.

For those playing the home game, why is Zuko so hesitant to kill his sister? Well, because he's Zuko, and she's his baby sister. If he was fighting his father, Zuko would've been able to strike the maniac down without a second's hesitation. Azula, though? That's harder. He wouldn't be Zuko is it was easy.

Now, though, it's out of his hands.

In the next chapter, Zuko floats through a sea of pain, and is called back by a word. Stay tuned!


	81. Chapter 81

81. _I FLOAT IN A SEA OF PAIN. All I can see is pain, all I can feel is pain, all I can touch is pain, all I can taste is pain, all I can smell is pain. The world shifts and swirls around me, a scalding cloud of red hot pain. I move without moving. I swim through the pain without swimming. I dive through the pain without diving. I taste the pain without tasting._

_**BOOM!**_

_I don't know what the sound is. It sends ripples through the pain. The pain shudders and moves with the sound. My body twists and contorts with the pain. The bleeding world weeps with the noise._

_**BOOM!**_

_I look for the sound, the source of the awful, horrid sound. I search for it, search without searching. I have to find it, to silence it. It hurts too much. It rattles my skull, the skull that doesn't exist, here in the pain. Peace, that's all I want. Peace and quiet. A world without pain. I'm tired of hurting. I'm tired of feeling. I can barely move. I can barely breathe. I don't move. I don't breathe. I move. I breathe. I don't understand. I don't try to. It hurts too much. But I have to know. I have to understand. I have to try. I don't know why. _

_**BOOM!**_

_What is time, in this world of pain? Time is nothing. Time is the lie we tell ourselves to make sense of the blood and the tears and the pain. Images, images flashing in the pain. Crystal clear pictures tinted read with blood and sweat and tears. Voices, barely heard, not understood. Nothing, nothing here. Everything, everything here. I tense. I await the noise. I feel it coming. The pain ripples and swirls and flees from the noise._

_**BOOM!**_

_I flinch without flinching. The body I don't have shudders at the sound. I just want it to stop. I don't want it to stop. I want to fly away. I don't want to fly away. What's happening to me? Where am I? It doesn't matter. It does matter. I don't care. I do care. It means nothing. It means everything. _

_**BOOM!**_

_Flashes, popping like firecrackers in the red. _

_**BOOM!**_

_Mai pushes food around on her plate. She tries to smile. It doesn't suit her. I try to smile back. It's the first time we've met. I'm fourteen. Adults whisper in the darkness. Breathe held in anticipation. She tells me I look nice today. I return the compliment. She asks me if I like her hair. I don't know how to answer that. I know it doesn't matter. She could horrid and ugly and vile and it still wouldn't matter. What I want doesn't matter. What I want never mattered. I lie and tell her that her hair looks lovely anyways. For a split second, her smile becomes real. I feel good about that, even as the lie tastes like bitter bile in my mouth._

_**BOOM!**_

_My uncle smiles at me. I try to smile back, but it hurts too much. The entire left side of my face is an aching, maddening welt of pain. He's asking me to come out of the cabin. He says the crew needs to see me walking about. I look away from him, show him the side of my face that still looks normal. I can't speak. It hurts too much to say the words in my mouth. Bitter tears sting in my remaining eye. He tells me it doesn't look as bad as I think it does. He tells me that things are not as bleak as they seem to be. He promises that he will always stand by me, that I'm better than I think I am. I hear the lies, the lies that aren't lies, but I think they're lies, how could they not be lies, how could anyone think that way of me? I hear the lies, and I love him for them._

_**BOOM!**_

_I hold the necklace in my hand. The girl twists and struggles against the ropes. I ask her where the Avatar is. I tell her that if she tells me, I'll give her necklace back. I promise that if she tries to break free, I'll burn the necklace in my hand before she can move an inch. She looks me in the eye. She tells me that she'll never talk. I ask her why. She says that she knows me, knows that I'll never do what I said I'd do, that I don't have it in me. For a split second, fire rises up within me. Steam rises from my hand. Her eyes fly wide. And then the fire dies. I move behind her, fasten the necklace back into place. She blinks at me, confused. Was she lying, too? No, she wasn't. She would never lie, not unless she had to. Somehow, I know this. I don't say a word. I just walk away. I know that she'll free herself before I've gone ten paces. I keep my back to her. I don't look back. She doesn't attack me. We both walk away._

_**BOOM!**_

_My father, glaring at me. Weak, he calls me. I believe him then. I believe all of his lies then. The lies that aren't lies, I call lies. The lies that are lies, I call truth. What was I? What am I? What will I be? Answers, answers hidden in the pain. The answers I came so far to find. The answers that will never be mine._

_**BOOM!**_

_Jin looks up at me. The lamps make the shadows in her face dance. She smiles. She says she has something for me, too._

_**BOOM!**_

_A woman, standing with me in the window. Her hands on my chest. My arms around her waist. Her lips meeting my lips. A bed. Sheets swirling around us, cool and quiet. I've never seen anyone so beautiful. I tell her so._

_**BOOM!**_

_A blade at my uncle's throat, shimmering in the light of torches…_

_**BOOM!**_

_A teenage boy, wondering if we could be friends…_

_**BOOM!**_

_The world sliding by under my feet, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen telling me that it's okay to say that it's beautiful…_

_**BOOM!**_

_My best friend, clinking his glass against mine, toasting the dawn…_

_**BOOM!**_

_A crown, being fastened into my hair…_

_**BOOM!**_

_A thousand-thousand people, looking up at me, hope in their eyes…_

_**BOOM!**_

_A promised date…_

_**BOOM!**_

_A voice, a voice amongst the pain…_

_**"Zuko…"**_

_I know the voice. I look for it. Something hits my face, cool and wet. The clothes I'm not wearing start to stick to the body I don't have. The voice, again. _

_**"Zuko, come back to me…"**_

_I sense the voice, sense with the senses I don't have, here in this sea of pain. I move towards it. The pain grows stronger. Hotter. Unbearable. I want to scream. I can't. I have no lungs. Not here. There is no air for the lungs I don't have. But I still want to scream. Maybe I do._

_**"Hey, you know that thing you wanted to tell me…?"**_

_I see it. See the voice, with the eyes I don't have. The voice is soft and warm, not hot like the pain that is growing into a thousand red hot pokers shoved into my flesh, the flesh I don't have. I move towards it. I don't care about the pain. I have to find the voice. I have to. I have to find the voice before I'm lost._

_**"Well, I wanted to tell you something, too…"**_

_Without the voice, I am lost. I was always lost, until I found the voice. I have to find the voice again. If I don't, I'll be lost forever. I don't want to be lost anymore. The pain is indescribable. I've never felt so much pain before. No one has. The body I do not have is covered, inundated, weeping with pain. I don't care. It's all worth it. If only I can find the voice._

_**"The thing is…I love you…"**_

_Almost there…_

_**"And I don't want to live without you…"**_

_Almost there…_

_**"So come back to me, and say it back…"**_

_Almost…_

_**"Because I'm lost without you…"**_

_No, I'm the one who's lost without you…_

_**"Please, don't leave me…"**_

_ I won't. I'll never leave you._

_**"Come back…"**_

_I am…_

_**"Don't you dare make me beg…"**_

_Never…_

_**"I love you…"**_

_I love you, too…_

_ And then…_

_ The sea parts…_

_ The pain…_

_ The pain…_

_**THE PAIN…**_

_I open my eyes…_

_ The eyes I have once again…_

_Katara…_

_**THERE!**_

* * *

As usual, fuck my author's note. Let's keep going!

In the next chapter, like I have to tell you what happens. Go find out!

For visual reference, use this: art/Zutara-Week-2010-All-In-173877255


	82. Chapter 82

82. IT'S RAINING. That's the first thing I notice. The sky is a strange color, unlike that I or anyone now alive has ever seen, pitch black clouds glowing scarlet from the light of the comet somewhere far above. It's pouring rain, ice cold and sharp. Water runs down my face, soaks into my clothes, drips off the roofs. It beats out a drumbeat on the dirt beneath me, the dirt that's rapidly becoming mud. There's a hand cradling my head, and my chest feels like it's on fire. I open my eyes. Katara hangs her head over me, her hair a sodden mess, rain falling in torrents down her hair and onto my body. Her shoulders heave. She's sobbing, hysterical. She whispering to herself. I remember words, words in a sea of pain, in a world black and bleeding. They sounded so clear, so loud, almost like the end of the world, or rather, _the beginning._ I sense rather than see people moving around me. Figures, huddled in the darkness, at the edges of my mind. _My men._ My uncle's voice, Toph's, both booming, louder than the thunder. _Get back! Make some room! Get back now, dammit!_ I try to move my head. I can't. I grit my teeth in pain. I roll my eyes, to Katara. She's still whispering.

_Still crying…_

_ "Hey…"_

I can barely even hear my own voice. It hurts to speak. Every letter is a white-hot knife, dull and harsh, sliding up and down my throat. But I have to speak. So I speak anyways. I can feel the world spinning around me. I don't have much time before I pass out again. I'm not afraid. I know I'll be back. I know I'll be fine. I know I won't see the world of pain, bleeding scarlet darkness, ever again.

_I won't, because she's here, and she loves me…_

Her head whips around, water flying from her hair and splattering across my face. I flinch at the cold. Her eyes fly wide, and, somehow, she starts crying _harder_. Her fingers tighten at the back of my head, her other hand moves up my chest.

_"Zuko…?"_

I try to laugh. It's a feeble attempt.

_"You just always have to be first, don't you?"_

She smiles. It's the most beautiful, wonderful smile I've ever seen. Her hand travels up my chest, brushes my collarbones, comes to rest on the side of my neck.

_"So, you heard all that?"_

I nod, as much as I can.

_"Of course I did. I always hear you."_

Her face is very close to mine. Her nose almost touches mine.

_"Well…I meant it, every word. I love you, Zuko."_

I smile. It hurts, but I smile anyways. Later, she will tell me it's the most wonderful smile she'd ever seen in her life. I believe her. I know Truth from Lies now. I know, because she taught the difference to me.

_"I love you, too, Katara."_

Her lips touch mine. We kiss, soft and slow. She pulls back, rests her forehead against mine, tears mixing freely with the rain.

_"I'm sorry…"_

_ "For what…?"_

_ "I…Azula…I…"_

I lean my mouth forward, kiss her again.

_ "It's okay. It's…it's for the best…"_

She kisses my mouth, my nose, my scar.

_ "Maybe she's in a better place…"_

I lean into every kiss.

_ "Maybe…"_

We stay like that for a moment, the rain washing the pain and the tears and the blood away into the dirt and the dust and the mud.

_"Katara…?"_

_ "Yeah…?"_

_ "I'm…I think I'm going to pass out now…"_

_ "I know. It's okay."_

_ "Be there when I wake up?"_

_ "Always, and forever."_

I kiss her one more time.

_"I love you."_

_ "I love you, too. Now rest."_

This time, there is no pain, no ocean of blood and sorrow. There is only darkness, a darkness shot through with light and warmth. And everywhere I look, a pair of bright blue eyes, the eyes of the most beautiful woman I'll ever know.

_I rest…_

* * *

Not too much to say here. This is, for me, at least, the way I always wanted this scene to end. Well, I finally got it, ladies and gentlemen. I can rest easy now. I'm not done, by the way. We still have the _dénouement _to get through, because I'm a sucker for wrapping up a story nice and tight.

By the way, in case you missed it, yes, Katara killed Azula. I'll leave the particulars up to your imagination, at least until I do a random one-shot about it someday.

In the next chapter, Zuko wakes up, and the Gaang's all together again. Stay tuned!


	83. Chapter 83

83. I HONESTLY DON'T REMEMBER MUCH OF THE NEXT TWO WEEKS. It's pretty much a blur. There are some things I picture very clearly. I remember the sensation of being lifted up, the pain I felt as I was shifted into a stretcher, the strange sense of awe that seemed to wash over those watching as they bowed their heads and kneeled in the rain. I remember the faces of some of the doctors, hustling and bustling over me, clucking their tongues and fussing like mother hens. I remember once opening my eyes to find my uncle snoring fitfully in a corner, and I remember very vividly opening my eyes just long enough to put my seal on the official cease fire order for the armies still in arms in the east.

Other things I see, but less clearly. Cups are pressed to my lips, strange elixirs poured down my throat. They all blend together into one strange mixture, swirling on my tongue. I hear voices, unclear and indistinct. Some of them seem familiar, but I can't be sure. Night and day become one to me. The red bleeds from the sky I can see through the window, slowly, painfully, until one day, it's blue. Or maybe I just imagine the transition. Sometimes, when I open my eyes, the window is closed. Other times, it's open. Or maybe I'm just imagining that, too. Maybe it was always open, and maybe it was always closed. I just can't be sure.

There are things others tell me, later, that I don't remember at all. There are entire conversations that I participate in that are related back to me, conversations that are black holes in my mind. Apparently, I mutter strange, nonsensical things, things that, when told to me later, don't make the least bit of sense. Years later, we'll laugh about it, my friends and I. At the time, though, it just made those close to me worry, all while I floated on a sea of milky white light, warm as the sun.

There are dreams, too, strange and whimsical. I don't remember any of those, probably because they didn't make any sense, nor do I care to remember them. No doubt these bizarre dreams are to blame for the odd things I whisper in my sleep.

Out of all of these things, clear and unclear, murky and stark, floating and twisting and swirling around me, there is one thing that stays constant, one person who never leaves my side. She curls into my side at night, holds my hand as the doctors work on me, presses her hands to my chest when we're alone in a blinding flash of bright light and soothing cold. It is her warmth I feel in the darkness, her strength and her will that bring me home every morning, her voice that guides me to the light.

It's her face that I see, that morning, two weeks after my father failed and my sister died and I stupidly hurled myself in front of a bolt of lightning. It's early in the morning. I'm not sure how I know that, but I do. I open my eyes. For the first time in I don't know how long, the world is clear, bright, distinct. I look around, trying not to move my head. My torso is tightly bandaged, faint spots of dried blood peeking through the bindings. My whole body aches, aches in a way I've never ached before. Every muscle, every sinew, every bone feels battered, bruised. I feel like I've been beaten with a brick stick, trampled by a herd of komodo-rhinos, then beaten some more.

_And yet, I've never felt so alive…_

I turn my head. There, above me, is the only face I want to see just then. The room is quiet and cool. We're alone, as we should be. She's leaned back against the headboard of the bed, her head resting against the wood, her eyes closed. Her chest rises slowly, up and down. She's asleep. For a moment, I consider letting her rest, the toss the mad thought aside. I know, without having to think about it, that, if I tried to do so, she'd only kill me when she woke up.

_Heh…she might be about to kill me anyways…_

I reach up, brush stray hairs from her face. She stirs, but doesn't wake. I open my hand, run my fingers along her brow, reach out and softly cup her face. Slowly, her eyes open. She blinks the sleep away, realization dawning on her as she comes back to the world. She smiles, soft and sweet. I smile back, happy and content. For a moment, I wonder what, exactly, the doctors have had me drinking. I feel like I'm floating on air. I decide it doesn't matter, because she's here, with me.

_Like she always is…_

_ Katara…_

_ "Hey…"_

My voice is raw and scratchy in my throat. I swallow, try again.

_"How's my girl?"_

She shakes her head, reaching a hand up and pressing it into the back of mine.

"She's good. Really fucking pissed, but good." She turns into my palm, nuzzles it, kisses it. "How's my boy?"

I try a chuckle. It doesn't work out well. I grit my teeth at the pain, force it down.

_"Well…he has a feeling that he's in big trouble…"_

She nods. Her smile widens with every moment. I really can't get enough of her smiles.

"Well, that's good, because he totally is. Like, no joke. As soon as you're well again, I'm going to fucking kill you." She reaches up with her other hand, rests it on my chest, light and soft. "I'm serious, if you ever do anything like that again, I swear to all the gods, you're a dead man, whether you live or not."

_"Heh…still love me?"_

She sighs. "Of course I do, you crazy, wonderful man. I only tell you that every day."

_"Do I say it back?"_

She nods. Tears are welling up in her eyes. "You do, even when you're not really all there, you do." She reaches up, wipes the tears away, but they're only replaced by more. Her voice shakes and cracks. _"Gods, Zuko, I thought I'd lost you…"_

I pull her down beside me. Instinctively, she gently molds herself into my side. I rest my arm around her, pull her close. It hurts a little, but I don't care. _I really fucking don't._ Some things are worth a little pain.

_"Hey, hey, it's alright."_ My voice still grinds in my throat, barely more than a whisper, but I press on. _"I'm here, I'm going to be okay, it's going to be alright."_

She heaves, sobs into my chest. Her fingers trace lazy patterns along and over the bindings, her touch light as a feather.

"It was…_it was awful._ There you were, shuddering with pain in the dirt, and your sister was cackling like a demon, even as she cried like a baby. _I didn't know if you were alive or dead._ And I saw her, saw her leering at me, like she'd won, and I saw you, and I saw Suki's face flash before my eyes, and I just…I just…_I just lost it…"_

With the hand I have behind her, I begin playing with the lower reaches of her hair. My fingers catch in tangled strands and fraying ends. I wonder if I'm the only one who hasn't left this room in however long I've been here.

_"So…she's really gone…?"_

She nods into my chest. "Yes, she is. I'm…_I'm sorry…"_

I turn my head, kiss the top of hers.

_"No, I'm sorry. It's my fault this happened. If I hadn't hesitated, none of this would have been necessary."_

She sighs, pokes me lightly in the jaw.

"Gods, Zuko, what did I say about you always saying you're sorry?"

I scroll back through the hundreds of hours we've spent, lying in the dark, talking long into the night, bodies entwined into and around each other.

_"Umm…only say it when I actually need to be sorry for something…?"_

"Right. And _not wanting to kill your sister_ is, without a doubt, _not_ something to be sorry about. Just…gods, Zuko, _why did you have to jump in front of a fucking bolt of lightning?!"_

_"Heh…well, one, because I love you, and two, because I knew I could take it-"_

"How…how did you know you could take it?"

I point at my left eye, or what remains of it.

_"Because I've taken it before."_

She pops up, kisses my scar, settles back down. "Any other reasons?"

_"Because I knew you could save me."_

I can sense her roll her eyes. "You and your fucking _lines_, Zuko."

_"You love me."_

"Gods, do I." She pauses for a moment, before saying, "You know, I'm supposed to fetch your uncle the _second_ I think you're awake for good."

_"You are? Where is my uncle?"_

"Outside, playing an endless game of Pai Sho with Toph."

_"Of course he is. Well…am I awake?"_

She settles in deeper, sighs happily. "Not yet, no. I'll let you know when you are."

_"Heh…Katara?"_

"Hmm?"

_"What would you have said if, a year ago, someone had told you where you'd be today?"_

She ponders for a moment before answering. "Well, at first, I would've told them that they were crazy. Then, I would've thought about it for a moment or two, and then I would've had to say, _Or, maybe not._ Then I would've gone and given you the kiss I wanted to give you in the Crystal Catacombs."

_"You wanted to kiss me in the Crystal Catacombs?"_

"Of course I did."

_"Liar."_

"Suit yourself."

I kiss her forehead again. _"I think I will."_

We drift, drift through the early morning air, insulated from the world by our shared warmth and our shared existence. Her breathing grows slow, regular. She's dozing off. I think about joining her. I kiss the top of her head, settle myself a bit, let her meld herself to my side a little more. Just before she falls asleep, she whispers, _"Don't for a __**second**__ think that you're off the hook, mister. Your ass is mine as soon as you can walk, you great big idiot."_

I smile, resist the urge to laugh, and press my face into her hair.

_"I know."_

* * *

I really wanted to finish this today, or at least tonight, but…then I realized that I didn't really want to. I've had…well…it's been real fucking fun, guys, and I'm glad you all have liked it. Sadly, though, there's only two more chapters to go, give or take, and then, my first fanfic is complete. There will be feels for all, I can assure you.

In the next chapter, which you'll probably get in the morning, Sokka and Aang arrive in Miyako, bearing a special prisoner, and Zuko meets a wreck that's no longer deserving even of pity. Stay tuned!


	84. Chapter 84

84. BY THE TIME SOKKA AND AANG ARRIVE WITH THEIR SPECIAL CARGO, THREE WEEKS LATER, I'M FINALLY BEING ALLOWED TO WALK. I cannot walk unassisted, of course. The doctors have commanded that I use a cane, and that I pace myself, and that I never, _ever_, try to stand or sit without someone to help me. These orders, of course, are rigorously enforced by the Fire Mistress. Indeed, the doctors don't even bother to tell me what they want or need me to do. They just walk in, do what needs doing, then tell Katara what they want from me. It's really quite amusing. Toph and my uncle derive endless enjoyment from the proceedings.

How do I feel about it, though? I'm just happy to have her with me.

If it was just Sokka and Aang who were coming, I'd just plop myself in a chair in my rooms and pull up a couple of chairs for the gang and make sure the fire whiskey didn't run out. As it is, though, a more official venue is called for. The morning they're to arrive, servants lay out my regalia. I try to dress myself, but the pain of raising my arms high enough to slip them into my formal robes makes me dizzy, so Katara has to help me. She holds the sleeves of the robes, slides them onto my arms, helps make sure I don't have anything bound or tied too tightly. Finally, she steps back, looking me up and down. I smile at her.

"You look beautiful, Katara."

She stares at me, a blush creeping into her face before she shakes it away. "I do?"

I nod. "You do." And she does. She's dressed in her own set of formal robes, which have just arrived from Kagoshima, deep lustrous scarlets and reds shot through with shimmering blues. Her mother's necklace, freshly cleaned and polished, shines from her throat, and the Fire Mistress crown catches the light in a flash of gold. "There has never been," I continue, "nor will there ever be, a Fire Lady as beautiful as you."

She rolls her eyes, even as she swallows a rather un-lady-like giggle. "Someone _really_ wants to get laid sometime soon."

I arch an eyebrow. "Some-_one?"_

"Hush. Also, you don't look too bad, yourself."

I turn to see myself in a mirror. It's been five years since I really stopped to contemplate myself in one. Every time I glimpsed myself, I saw…_someone who wasn't me._ I see all of those men and boys now. I see the exiled prince, the Blue Spirit, the wanted fugitive, the traitor, the rebel, the soldier, _all of them_. They fade away, swallowed by the expanse of time. I reach up for my face, lay my fingers lightly on the edges of my scar. I run my fingers across the lower edge, down my jaw, down the front of my robes. I don't look exactly as I want to. I'm still pale, and my eyes still look drawn and tired. I've lost weight in the past few weeks, and it shows. And yet, I look into that mirror, at the man looking back at me, and I see…

_I see…_

_ I see a man named Zuko, who just happens to be Fire Lord…_

No, I haven't found all of the answers, but I've found the ones that matter. At the end of the day, that's what's important.

From behind, I hear the sound of a throat softly cleared. I turn around, find Katara, holding a pillow in her hands. In the pillow rest my crown, the crown that was made for me in Kagoshima, identical to the one Fire Lords have worn for centuries. That crown no longer exists. One of my first orders was for it to be melted down. The only crown I will wear, my descendants will wear, if that is the will of the people, is the crown that my people made for me. No other crown will do.

Katara smiles up at me. "One more detail, and then the picture is complete."

I shake my head. "I'm complete every time I wake up in the morning and you're there beside me."

She sighs. "Try all you want, you're not getting laid this morning. You know how long Naoko and Midori had to work on my hair? Now, if you don't mind…"

Without another word, I bow my head. She reaches up, adjusts my topknot, slides the crown into place and secures it. I straighten myself while she steps back and admires her handiwork. "Satisfied?" I ask.

She taps her chin before nodding. "Yes, satisfied. Unlike every time _you_ put it on, it doesn't tilt to the left."

"It does _not_ tilt to the left every time I put it on."

"Keep thinking that." She moves to my right, the traditional place of the Fire Lady, threads her arm through mine. She pops up, pecks my cheek. "Shall we?"

I nod. "We shall."

I'll admit, it's strange being in the throne room. For the past century, it has been a room of war and violence. The walls were lined with weapons and suits of armor and tapestries depicting great Fire Nation victories, even when those victories were neither _victories_ nor _great_. As my father's madness progress, portraits of himself and, eventually, my sister proliferated as well, until one would have been excused for believing that Ozai and Azula were the only two people who'd ever done anything of note in the past hundred years. The picture of dark, brooding menace was completed by the throne itself, mounted on a dais behind a never-extinguished wall of flame.

All of that is gone now. I have had it all taken away. The weapons have been melted down and broken, the tapestries put in storage until something else can be figured out (many of them are the products of some of our finest artists, works of art, that do not deserve to be destroyed), the portraits of my father and my sister tossed into a bonfire behind the palace weeks ago. I haven't decided what I'll do with this throne room. I've half a mind to have the entire palace leveled, start from scratch. In the end, though, it's not my decision. I meant what I told Sokka: It's time for the people of the Fire Nation to choose their future. In the end, this is their room; I'll let them decide what it should look like.

The final change is the one that I personally find most welcome. The flames that have burned before the throne has been put out, the channels filled in and paved over. No more will the Fire Lord cast down judgments and doom from behind a wall of fire like some kind of god. I may be descended from Agni (if the legends are to be believed) but I am most definitely _not_ Agni. I am just a man, and a man I shall remain.

I mount the steps to the throne, Katara holding my arm every step of the way. When I make it, I take my seat with great relief. The court takes their positions around me. I have had the Fire Lady's throne retrieved from storage and placed back upon the dais, at my right. Katara settles herself there, smoothing out her robes as she straightens her back and adopts the pose of a queen. My uncle stands to my left, tall and proud. Other generals and lords and, of course, Admiral Fujita array themselves off to either side, dressed as finely as possible. Toph lounges on the top step, legs stretched out, wriggling her toes in boredom. The floor of the court itself is packed, standing room only. The highest born men and women in the land jostle for position with provincial mayors, village headmen, and common soldiers. More than a few children peek out from behind their parents' legs. I have ordered every window thrown open. The crowds, I'm told, are immense, every single person in Miyako seemingly turning out to see the Avatar himself bring the most hated man in the realm to meet his fate.

_I hear the boos and the hisses and calls for blood long before I see what's causing them…_

The roar is reaching a crescendo when the doors at the end of the room open. A familiar figure strides down the central aisle. His arm is still in a sling, and his face is bandaged, but he still carries himself talk and proud. He stops at the foot of the steps, bows deeply, rises, working hard to conceal the smile on his face.

"Your Grace," he says, his voice young but strong, "my lady."

I smile. "It's good to see you alive and well, friend Muto."

"We were very worried when we heard you had been wounded in the battle," Katara adds, returning Muto's greeting with a tilt of her head.

Muto shrugs, the picture of nonchalant youth. "It was but a scratch, your Grace, my lady, nothing more. Definitely nothing to compare to your own injuries, your majesty."

I wave the comment away. "None of that, my friend. Now, unless I'm mistaken, this is not a social call."

He shakes his head. "No, your Grace. The Avatar and Lord Sokka," Toph titters as this, "humbly request an audience, so that they may present a gift to our people."

I nod. "Show them in."

Muto nods, bows, first to me, then to Katara, allowing his gaze to slide over the area to Katara's left, where the ladies-in-waiting Naoko and Midori do their best not to giggle, and Naoko no doubt does her best not to blush, before he finally turns on his heel and shouts, _"The Avatar and Lord Sokka!"_

The doors open, and Katara quickly swallows a gasp, while my heart leaps into my throat.

Aang, for lack of a better word, looks magnificent. He is dressed in the kind of formal Air Nomad robes that haven't been seen in public since the start of the war. He truly carries himself like the Avatar, and looks the part through every inch. He carries his staff in his right hand, taps it solemnly on the ground each time his left foot strikes the ground. His face is solemn, grave, _regal_, even, except for a faint trace, a tremor, there at the corner of his mouth, where the Aang we all know and love so well makes his presence known in the form of a barely suppressed smile.

The true wonder, though, is Sokka. I wasn't aware, until that moment, that the Southern Water Tribes had something that one could call _formal wear_, but in that moment, I am corrected. He marches tall and straight, dressed in finely made light robes, nowhere near as ornate as what would find in the other nations, but somehow, for that, just as dignified, if not more. His warrior's ponytail is perfectly made, and in his left hand is a spear, which he taps in time with Aang's. At his waist, the sword he received at Piandao's school, all those months ago, rests, suspended from a finely-wrought belt of intricate Water Tribe design. As he walks forward, I realize that he's leaning slightly on the spear, and walks with a slightly limp. I file the information away; it can wait. For now, I'm just happy to see my best friend alive and well, and, more than that, to see what's on his face.

Because, unlike Aang, Sokka is doing nothing to hide his smile.

The court erupts into furious applause and cheers as they enter, people bowing and saluting and calling their names, especially Aang's, since, after all, he _is_ the Avatar. Toph ends up only lasting about a minute, before her self-control fades away and she leaps to her feet and runs down to meet them. She hurls herself into Sokka's arms, almost knocking him down, before doing the same to Aang. Finally, she takes position between them, holding their hands, giggling like a school girl, as they proceed to the foot of the dais, stopping just short of Muto, who bows to them, then slides around behind.

They start to bow, but I cut them off with a hand.

"No," I say, "the Lord Avatar bows to no king, and the Fire Lord's best friend need never bow."

Katara smiles and winks at her brother. "The Fire Mistress wouldn't mind a bow, though."

Sokka rolls his eyes as laughter ripples through the court. "In time, _my lady_, in time." He turns to me, his smile widening. "How are you, friend Zuko?"

I smile back. "I'm alright. A big gimpy, but alright." I turn to Aang. "And yourself, Lord Avatar? How do you fare today?"

Aang lets his smile show, for just an instant, before swallowing again. "Wishing that I brought a better gift for you, my friend."

My eyes shift to the door. "I take it that he's here?"

"Just beyond the doors."

I close my eyes. A hand, soft and warm, reaches over and threads itself through my fingers. It squeezes. I squeeze back. I open my eyes.

"Bring him in."

They tell me that the man who enters was booed and jeered all the way from the port to the palace. They say that people threw rotten fruit and vegetables at him. They say that at one point, and old widow, every one of her four sons dead in the war, stepped into his path and spit in his face. They say that, at every step of the way, only the vigilance of the troops I'd ordered stationed all along the path kept the crowds from taking the head that they chanted for.

_They say that this man was once the Fire Lord…_

_ They that he was once my father…_

_ But I look at him, and I realize…_

_ I do not know this man…_

_ Maybe I never did…_

I blink in confusion, stare at the pitiful wreck that is forced to kneel in the center of the court, forced to its knees in a jangling cacophony of chains. For eighteen years of my life, my world was defined by fear of this thing. For another three years, his eyes haunted me from one end of the world to the other and back again. For another two years, his presence, his shadow, _his power_, hovered over me like a black fog, clutching at my throat.

And now?

_And now…_

_**He's nothing…**_

_Maybe he always was…_

The court is silent as a tomb. No one shouts, no one jeers, no one throws rotten fruit. The thing before us doesn't deserve the effort. Its hair hangs limp, caked in dirt and grime and dried fruit juice. It is shirtless, exposed to the world. It is pale and fleshless. I've been told that it has refused to eat anything but bread, drink anything but water, since it was subdued by the Avatar. It is silent. I've been told that it hasn't spoken a word. Everything that once defined it has been stripped away. Its nation has turned its back on him. Its armies are either destroyed or happily fly another's banner. Its territories have been conquered. Its dreams have been shattered. Even its bending is gone, torn from it by the sixteen-year-old boy it once proclaimed a weakling and a coward. On its throne sits the son it brutalized and banished, holding hands with the kind peasant it once would have spit upon.

It. Is. _**Nothing.**_

I've seen enough. We all have. Even the crowds outside, once they vented their rage, immediately began to fade away and go home. And that's all that really needs to be said about the man named Ozai, son of Azulon.

At the end of the day, he was nothing but a particularly expensive circus freakshow.

I clear my throat, my fingers still entwined with Katara's. "So, father, welcome home."

The thing slowly raises its head. It looks at me with eyes empty and cold, the fires within completely extinguished. It opens its mouth, closes it, opens it again, but in the end, says nothing.

I nod. I expected nothing more, and nothing less. I turn to my uncle. My uncle nods, strides forward, unrolls a scroll.

"Ozai, son of Azulon, would-be Phoenix King, who was once Fire Lord, you are hereby charged with crimes against your family, your people, your nation, and, most of all, against _humanity itself_. You are accused of violating the sacred laws and traditions of our great nation, and of numerous other crimes too legion to recite here. You will be taken from this place to await your trial. If found guilty, your life will be forfeit, and you will meet those who made you." He sighs, rolls the scroll up, and turns to me. "Anything you wish to add, nephew?"

I think. I think for what feels like a long time. A thousand-thousand questions swirl and bubble in my head, each one more unsatisfying than the last. In the end, I am forced to accept the truth, to find and acknowledge the final answer, here above the very marble floor I once crawled across, adrift in a sea of pain, half my face on fire.

_At the end of the day, I never had anything to say to this thing…_

_ And nothing I needed him to say to me…_

_**It's over…**_

I shake my head. Katara watches me for a moment, before nodding, squeezing my hand, and saying to my uncle, "Iroh, if you would be so kind, please send this _thing_ away."

My uncle bows. "It would be my pleasure, my lady." He rises, nods at Muto, who nods at the guards. I watch, amazed, while the guards roughly haul the thing that was once my father to up by its shoulders and drags it out of the throne room. The doors shut with a _boom_, and he's gone.

I take my cane, squeeze Katara's hand once more, before rising, slowly, carefully, to my feet. Katara rises with me, her arm through mine. I clear my throat, look out at the sea of faces, eyes fixed firmly on us.

"Ladies, gentlemen, this audience is at an end. Go home, and spread the word:

"The war, the madness, is over.

_**"**__Peace has come._

_**"The future is here."**_

* * *

This ended up being a very personal chapter for me. When I was young, I assumed that my biological father was a good man, because I was a kid, and never saw him enough to know better, and my mother was kind enough to let me maintain my illusions. As time went on, I learned more about him, and came to see him as he was: A monster, pure and simple. The last time I saw him, I was eleven, and the last time I spoke to him, I was fourteen. He called me once on my twenty-first birthday, probably hoping to ask me for money or something. I ignored the call, and never returned it.

Like Zuko, I saw a strange, bizarre _thing_, and realized that I had nothing to say.

Well, here we are, the penultimate chapter. I'm not going to lie, I'm feeling some feels right now. I hope you are, too. It's always bittersweet when we reach an ending, especially of something we've grown attached to. I have more to say, of course, but I'll save it for my final author's note.

Thus, in the next and final chapter, we have a parade, some feels, and the final two words. Stay tuned!


	85. Chapter 85

85. IT WAS AUGUST BEFORE WE FINALLY HELD THE PARADE. It takes at least that long before Katara will let me walk around with the crown. My chest still hurts, of course, and I have a brand-new scar to carry around. It's strange, this scar. It's the scar I'm the most proud of, the scar I gladly carry and would happily show to the world every chance I get, even though it's the scar that none but those closest to me will ever see. It's the scar that speaks the most deeply to me. It says everything about who I am, the man I have become, the man I will be for the rest of my life, gods willing. It says things I can never put into words.

It says, _There is nothing I would not do for the ones I love._

It says that, and so much more.

We stand in a circle, just out of sight of the city gates. The gates have been repaired and put back in place, the scorch marks washed away, the great iron-studded doors put back on their mighty hinges. This is, in many ways, their last hurrah. Starting in the coming spring, the walls of the capital will be torn down. That is the order I have sent to the entire nation. Wherever there are walls, they are to be taken to torn asunder. There will be no more walls, no more gates. Never again will my people peer in fear at the world around them. Never again will the future be something to behold with terror. It is the dawn of a new era, a new world. The ways of the past are just that, in the past. We don't need them anymore.

Sokka moves about the circle. The world is calm and still. The sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon. My best friend calmly and with great ceremony pours whiskey into the glasses we hold in our hands. There are just the five of us, standing in a quiet spot, away from the forming column. The air is filled with the sounds of grunting animals, tanks roaring to life, men making final preparations. Musicians tune their instruments, while overhead, airships lumber across the sky.

And yet, here, in this circle of friends, though we are dressed like kings and queens, there is silence. We contemplate the glasses in our hands, feel the warmth of the bright red liquid swirling inside. Finally, Sokka raises his glass. His eyes are bright and clear, and yet we all see the tears hiding in the corners. We see them, because we feel them ourselves. By the end of the day, there will not be a dry eye in all of Miyako, or, really, all of the world.

Sokka clears his throat.

"Well, guys, we made it. This is the day we've all been waiting for, the day we've worked so hard to reach. There were many times I doubted that we'd reach this moment, that we'd be able to stand here, and I mean, _stand here_, together, times when all hope seemed lost, when it seemed like darkness would be the rule of the day, of the future, really. And yet…here we are."

We mull those words over, while he gathers his strength and presses on.

"So, today, on this morning, I'd like to raise a toast. I think we should all raise a toast, really. As for me, though, I'd like to raise a toast, first and foremost, _to us_, the best fucking friends in the world. There will never be a group, quite like us."

Aang raises his glass. "I'd like to raise a toast to the world. May it never again know days like the ones it has spent the past hundred years knowing too many of."

Toph raises her glass. "To all of those who helped us along the way. We will never be able to pay you back."

Katara raises her glass. "And to all of those who we could not help, and who we had to leave behind. We will never forget you, as long as we live, whether we knew your names or not."

Finally, I raise my glass. The light catches the liquid, turns it red and gold, sparkling in the dawn.

"And last, but never least," I say, words thick and hot in my throat, "to absent friends. I hope and I pray that we did right by you, that we made you proud."

We call out the names, one after another, a litany of those who did not make it, those we failed, those we let down, those we could not help, those who paid the price for our mistakes, of the faces we will see in our dreams.

_Ursa…_

_ Kya…_

_ Lobsang…_

_ Yue…_

_ Jet…_

_ Song…_

_ Jin…_

_ Gyatso…_

_ Kyoshi…_

_ The Moris…_

_ The people of the Jang Hui…_

_ The soldiers…_

_ The civilians…_

_ The guilty…_

_ The innocent…_

_ My people…_

_ Your people…_

_ Our people…_

_**Suki…**_

We drink. We toss the glasses to the ground and grind them under our feet. Sokka steps into the center of the circle, uncorks the bottle, pours its contents out, scatters some of the finest whiskey money can buy onto the ground, into the dirt, amongst the dust, an offering to the dead, a prayer for the living, a hope for the future. Finally, he bends down, thrusts the empty bottle into the ground. He wipes tears from his eyes, smiles at us.

"I fucking love you guys, you know that?"

We don't say anything, just press in around him. There, dressed in all of our finery, on the dawn of a beautiful late summer day, beneath the crumbling walls of the capital of what was once the most hated nation in the world, we embrace, not as saviors or heroes or warriors or Avatars or Fire Lords or Fire Ladies.

_No, there, at the end, at the beginning, we embrace as friends…_

_ Because, in the end, that's what it's all about…_

_**Friends…**_

We break, wipe the tears from our eyes. We slap each other on the back, embrace some more, brush the winkles and the dust from our clothes. Katara reaches up, adjusts the crown in my hair. We kiss. We tell each other we love each other. We take each other's hands, join hands with the others. The five of us walk, to where grooms hold the bridles of our mounts. We help each other into our saddles, turn to face the city walls. I turn to Katara. I smile. She smiles back.

"So, Zuko, did you ever find your answer?"

I take her hand, kiss it softly.

"I did."

She squeezes my hand.

"I'm glad. Now, let's show your people what the future looks likes."

I squeeze her hand, let it fall.

_"Let's."_

I give a signal. A horn sounds. Drums beat. Bands blare to life. Banners snap and twist in the wind. We take a step, then another, then one more.

Step-by-step, we walk into the future.

_**Together…**_

_**The End**_

* * *

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is that. I'm not going to say much here; everything that needs to be said will be said in the next two little bits. But, for now, please indulge me, and feel the feels with me.

You guys rock. I love you guys.

_Peace._


	86. The Final Author's Note

_**The Final Author's Note**_

When I started this project, it literally had one purpose, and one purpose only: To make my ideal version of one of my favorite shows _work._ I had no idea it was going to be this long, this complex, this ornate. All I wanted to do was address some of the things that had always bothered me, and create a piece of work that I would have fun writing, and that I would enjoy. Writing, for me, is a passion, equal to and, in some ways, greater than my other non-personal-life passion, education. All my life, I've wanted to be two things: A writer and a teacher. Being a teacher has proven problematic, but I hope that, by now, I've proven myself to be at least a decent writer.

I don't do anything by halves, and I like to think that this work has shown that. Even when I'm having fun, I put a lot of thought and research into what I make. The results, I hope, have proven satisfactory, but either way, I had fun doing it, and that was the whole purpose of this exercise. I can definitely say, without a doubt, that this is one of my favorite things that I have created.

I did want to take this time, though, to talk about some of the things that _didn't_ make it. For example, for a while, I toyed with re-writing the _entire_ series. In the end, that proved too much for one project. Even this one ended up ballooning into about twice the size I originally imagined it. I still might go back and give this same treatment to the first two books, or, I might just let you guys imagine them as you see fit. If anyone wants to take a crack at it (I'm going to have a busy summer), then by all means, feel free. I only ask that you shoot me the link to what you're doing, because I would love to see what you come up with.

There are other things that ended up on the cutting room floor, too. For example, I originally had a place for Ty Lee and a larger role for Mai. The Day of the Black Sun was going to be a big set-piece battle. I completely wrote out a happy ending for Suki. I toyed with the idea of killing one of the core Gaang, generally Sokka or Toph. Aang originally had a lot more aangst (heh) about Katara and Zuko. Hakoda almost got a death scene. I used to have an epilogue where Zuko and Katara, years after the war, go looking for Song to give her a new ostrich-horse. That one might still happen, but in a short story and/or one-shot form. Oh, and Piandao was going to die, too. I can be a bloodthirsty bastard when I want to be.

I always like deleted scenes, and that's why I've given you a glimpse into mind. I also wanted to give you guys some prompts. Like I said, here in this special, unique little world, everything belongs to everyone. Feel free to have fun to your heart's content.

Before I go, I thought I'd give you guys some glimpses into the future. Yes, Zuko and Katara will eventually get married and have cute kids. Toph will continue to kick ass. Aang will continue his personal growth and become a fine Avatar. Sokka, I imagine, will take a long time to heal from the two years he just went through, if he ever really does. I'm not going to give you any more information, though, mainly because a lot of this is percolating in my head as future stories, because yes, there will be more. My next project is type up an original work I just finished, and start editing it for submission. After that, I have a summer job that will require me to spend two weeks in Houston (long story), and after that, my girlfriend and I are moving to a new apartment, one that doesn't get fucked over by stadium traffic (we live unreasonably close to Cowboys stadium, and it _blows_). It will also have a patio and a washer/dryer set, which will be awesome. _Man, if twenty-year-old-me could see me now…_

But after that? When I'm all settled, and my original work has left me depressed and in a funk? You guys are totally going to get more. I hope you enjoy it as much as you seem to have enjoyed this.

Before I go, I want to make one last begging cry for fan art. I can't draw for shit, but I would love to see some of the images I conjured forth brought to life. So, if you have artistic talent, or you have a friend with artistic talent, and someone in those two categories feels motivated to put drawing implement to paper, please, feel free! Just show me what you did!

There's one more chapter to go, and that's where I acknowledge people and give some well-earned thank-yous. It's as much for me as for anyone else. So, if you want to see how I can _really_ babble, by all means, stay tuned!

* * *

I just wanted to put something down here for old time's sake. Woo!


	87. Acknowledgements

_**Acknowledgements**_

First, I want to thank God, because, despite what Father Michaels thought, I _did_ pay attention in Catechism class, and I really don't want to risk getting struck by lightning.

Next, I want to thank my girlfriend. Without her, none of this would exist, and without her, I wouldn't have made it this far, and I really doubt I would've finished it. If there's anyone you guys should thank, it's her, for putting up with me, for liking me, for loving me, and for giving me some of Katara's best lines. She really is the most amazing, most beautiful girl in the world, and after more than three years together, I still wake up every day, amazed that she still seems to dig me. So, to her, I say, _Muchas gracias, querida. Tú eres la luz de mi vida._

My next thank you is, like the first, a preventative thank you. Just on the off chance that my mother one day finds out about this little story and skips to this chapter, I want to thank her, for giving me life and doing her best to turn me into a functional, somewhat normal human being. You taught me everything I know, Mom; I wouldn't be here without you. _Literally._

Next, I would like to thank the ever-present, always famous, sometimes infamous, Mike and Brian, and all the rest of the Team Avatar crew over at Nickelodeon. I know I take the piss out of the show a lot, and give it a lot of shit, especially in my author's notes, but you know what? I wouldn't have put this much work and passion into what I just created if I didn't have some sort of deep, visceral connection to the original work. So, thanks, guys, for the world you created, and you so kindly let me run amok in.

I also want to thank Austin College, in Sherman, Texas, for giving me the best education money and tens of thousands of dollars in student loans can buy. I would be neither the man nor the writer that I am today without what the dedicated men and women of that learned institution taught me. Also, I wouldn't be as smart, which means my girlfriend would never have wasted as much time as she already has on me, which means that I never would've sat down and written this doorstop of a novel. So, yeah, thanks, AC. _Go 'Roos!_

Thank you, all of the wonderful writers who inspire me every day. I read a lot, and you guys have taught me everything I know about writing. Please, keep up the good work, so I can keep drunkenly babbling about it at the local bar.

Thank you, Boston Beer Company, for creating the fuel for my attempt at creative genius. If you like beer, you'll love Samuel Adams.

Thank you, Phillip-Morris Company, for you wonderful product, Marlboro Red cigarettes, the glue that holds my delicate psyche together, and the reward I use to motivate me to write _one more goddamn chapter almost there GAH!_

And this wouldn't be a complete thank you note without a word of thanks to my characters. For me, my characters are, in many ways, real. I create them, flesh them out, give them a world to run around in, and they lead me where I need to go. In this case, I may have started out with someone else's characters, but over the course of the story, they all became something new. I love you guys, even the ugly ones _(I'm looking at you, Azula)_. Thanks for letting me rattle around in your heads.

And finally, last but not least, I want to thank you, my readers. I would've given up long ago, or at the very least, not put as much time and effort into this, if it wasn't for you guys. Love my work or hate it, you all flocked to the review tab and told me what you thought. You hung around, you read, you recommended, you thought. You stayed with me right until the end. You felt the feels with me, the triumph and the sorrows. For that, I can never thank you enough. You guys fucking rock.

Also, quite a few of you are talented writers yourselves. Seriously, damn.

There are three I definitely want to thank: BeakerPD, kaylinthehuman, and daytonanerd. Sometimes, I think you three spend more time reading this than I do, and you three have never been afraid to kick my ass when it was needed. Thanks, you guys.

And with that, we finally reach the end. No more delaying, and besides, I need to take a freaking shower. Thanks for joining me on this ride, and I hope to see you all soon. _Peace!_


End file.
